


Come Back To Me

by Fallenstar92



Series: We'll Make It Out Alive [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Ian, Break Up, Cute Kids, Depression, Fiona being a bitch, Flashbacks, Getting Back Together, Good Dad Mickey, Happy Ending, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mental Health Issues, Mpreg, No Sammi, Post Mpreg, Slow Burn, lip being an asshole, sad at times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-09 02:45:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 37,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11095260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenstar92/pseuds/Fallenstar92
Summary: The day Ian broke Mickey's heart was also the day he found out he was pregnant with Ian's child. Knowing he couldn't bear the thought of Ian being around but wanting nothing to do with their child, he leaves the Southside. What will happen when Ian runs into Mickey five years later?





	1. The Day You Broke The Unbreakable

                    Five Years Ago

Mickey was running as fast as his legs would allow him, determined to get to Ian's side as soon as humanly possible. He spent the whole night lying awake, staring at the positive Pregnancy Test in his hands, and had just managed to fall asleep when Ian called him. He hadn't seen his boyfriend in over a week and needed see that he was alright; that they would be alright. He started to slow down as he saw Ian sitting on the porch of the Gallagher house, staring into space like a fucking zombie.

"The fuck have you been?" Mickey asked, relieved to see the stunningly beautiful redhead, even if he didn't look like his usual self.

"With my mom." Ian said in the flattest voice Mickey has ever heard. "I hate the pills. You gonna make me take 'em?" Ian asked, finally looking up at the brunette in front of him.

"You go fuckin' nuts when you don't." Mickey tried to reason. He needed Ian stable; their baby would need him stable.

"Gonna wanna be with me if I don't?" Ian asked as a sort of challenge. Of course Mickey would, but he needed Ian on the meds. He couldn't be out looking for his coked up, manic ass at all hours of the night the whole time he was pregnant. Ian seemed to take Mickey's silence as a "no", because he stood up, running his fingers through his shaggy red hair. "You used to love me. Now you don't even know who I am, hell I don't know who I am half the time."

"I love you." Mickey said, hoping it would change Ian's mind about whatever the fuck he was about to do.

"What does that even mean?" Ian asked in that same flat tone that was slowly driving Mickey crazy.

"It means we take care of each other; good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit." Mickey would normally laugh at himself for sounding like a bitch, but he was terrified he was about to lose the only man he ever had-or ever would-felt any sort of love for.

"Gonna marry me? Go down to the courthouse in a couple of tuxes like some old queens?" Ian shot back.

"Fuck you." Mickey said with no venom at all in his words; he wanted to step closer and hug Ian-tell him about their baby-but he knew that whatever was holding him back was for the best.

"No thanks. Been there." Ian laughed humorlessly as he walked up the steps. "You don't owe me anything."

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Mickey asked before he could stop himself.

"Too much!" Ian yelled, throwing his hands up. "Too much is wrong with me, and you can't do anything about that; you can't fix me 'cause I'm not broken, okay? I'm me!" Ian had tears in his eyes now, and Mickey knew nothing would change what was happening.

"This is it. This is you breaking up with me." Mickey couldn't believe he was fucking stupid enough to believe someone as spectacular as Ian Gallagher could love him.

"Yeah." Ian sounded emotionless, yet again, but this time Mickey was more focused on not breaking down, himself.

"Really?" Mickey asked, hoping Ian was unsure of his choice, but the redhead just shrugged. "Fuck." Mickey wiped his eyes quickly-no way would he ever let Ian Fucking Gallagher see any weakness in him, again-and shook his head. "Fuck you, Ian. Have a good fuckin' life." With that, Mickey turned and walked home.

 

"Baby need you." Svetlana demanded as Mickey walked through the door, thrusting Yevgeny at him.

"Kid's not mine." He said, finally able to talk to someone about what was going on in his life right now. "I'm a fuckin' carrier; no way I coulda knocked you up." He wiped his eyes, again. "Was on fuckin' birth control until Mandy fucked off and couldn't get it for me, anymore." He knew he was crying, but he didn't give a shit; he'd just had his fucking heart broken.

"You have baby of your own." Svetlana said, sitting next to Mickey where he had collapsed on the couch, patting his back in an awkward attempt at comfort. "Would have thought you and Carrot Boy would be happy."

"Asshole dumped me; don't even know I'm pregnant... I gotta get outta here. I can't stay here and know he won't want shit to do with our kid." Mickey turned to Svetlana. "Can you do somethin' for me?"

"Depends on what you ask me to do." Svetlana replied, though she knew she would do whatever it was; she felt bad for the teary-eyed brunette.

"I'm leavin'. Once I'm gone, I want you to take somethin' to Ian... I'll leave you some cash for the kid." Svetlana nodded, and Mickey took the notepad and pen off the table and began to write.

 

_"Ian,_

_Lana's dropping this off to you, because there are a few things I thought you should know. I loved your ginger ass, and I still do, but you obviously never loved me. That's okay, but I wanted you to know that-from my side, at least-it was fucking real. The second, is that I was fucking gone before Svetlana even left the house. I can't stick around here when you're that close, but I can't have you._

_The last thing, is I'm pregnant. You're not you, right now, and I know you won't give a shit-maybe you never will-but I thought you should know you have a kid out there. I'll stop writing now, because you'll probably just throw the fucking thing away, but I wanted to tell you. Congratulations, you broke the heart no one even thought I had; you broke the unbreakable._

_Bye,_

_Mick."_

Ian looked up from the paper in his hands-tears in his eyes-to meet the angry Russian woman's bright green eyes. "Where'd he go, Lana?" He asked her with a shaky voice.

"Do not know. He did not tell me where he go, just to bring this to you." Svetlana adjusted Yevgeny on her hip. "You break piece of shit husband." Was all she said before she walked off, leaving a broken Ian in her wake.

 


	2. What Means The Most To Me

                   Present Day

Mickey woke up the way he had every day for five years; alone and wishing his redhead was there with him. He didn't act like it bothered him throughout the day, but as he fell asleep and woke up in the morning, it really hit him that he'd never be in Ian's arms, again. He hadn't left Chicago-just the Southside-and had started going by Alexander Tyshchenko (his mother's maiden name) on the off chance Ian would try to find him and their son.

Mickey felt better when he thought about his boy; Maxton Krew Tyshchenko. Max was his entire world, and the person he loved the most. He had spent five years only worrying about the wellbeing of his adorable, funny son. "Daddy?" Max's tiny voice broke Mickey from his thoughts as he entered Mickey's bedroom, his messy red hair plastered to his pale face.

"Hey, Chipmunk." Mickey greeted, sitting up so Max could climb into his lap on the bed. "Why're you up so early?" Mickey asked, wrapping his arms around the small boy.

"Wanna cuddle with you." Max replied with a tired sigh as he pressed his body closer to Mickey. "Too cold." Mickey cursed himself, knowing he must have forgotten to pay the gas bill and his baby boy had to suffer for it.

"Come on, Chipmunk." He whispered to Max, laying back down and pulling the covers over both of them. "Somethin' on your mind?" He asked, pressing a kiss to his baby's forehead.

"Do I got a mommy?" Max asked, drawing an invisible pattern on Mickey's shirt. Mickey had been dreading this day; the day Max would wonder about his other parent.

"Why? You plannin' on leavin' daddy?" He teased, tickling the boy's stomach.

"No, daddy!" Max giggled, kicking his little legs until Mickey stopped tickling him. "I just wanna know where my mommy is." Max shyly told Mickey, looking up at him with blue eyes just like his father's own. "It's just us."

"I like it that way; I like havin' my little Chipmunk all to myself." Mickey said honestly, pulling Max closer to himself. Max pressed his face to Mickey's chest and Mickey hated that he couldn't just introduce Max to Ian. He was sure Max would love Ian-everyone always has-but he wasn't so sure how Ian would feel about Max, and that broke his heart; he never wanted anyone to make his son feel like he's anything short of amazing. "You don't have a mommy, Max; you have another daddy."

"Where is he?" Max asked quietly.

"We broke up when you were still in my tummy." Mickey patted his own stomach for emphasis.

"I was in there?" Max giggled. "I was tiny!"

"Nah, daddy got fat." Mickey joked easily.

"Can I see other daddy?" Max asked, seeming unsure of how Mickey would reply.

"Maybe someday, Chipmunk." How was Mickey supposed to tell Max that Ian had decided five years ago that not being medicated was more important than the relationship they had fought tooth and nail for? The answer was simple; he wouldn't. He'd just wait for Max to forget about this and go back to their everyday life. After he paid the gas bill, that is.


	3. What I Thought I'd Never Have

Five years had gone by since Ian had seen the love of his life; since he'd found out he was going to be a father to a child he'd never see. He's looked for Mickey the whole time, but had never managed to find the blue-eyed man anywhere in or around Chicago; he assumed Mickey must have gone farther than he'd envisioned, but he still looked. After the first few months he got his life together-or, as together as someone could get their life when half of them was missing-and gotten a job that paid well and had benefits, started a savings account, bought a car-it wasn't the nicest car he'd ever seen, but it was his-and even gotten a small house. The house wasn't exactly Northside, but was close enough for Ian to love his little, two bedroom house.

When he put the down payment on his house, he'd bought it for a reason; he planned to get his Mickey back, and their child would need their own room. He wasn't manic when he made the choice-despite Fiona and Lip both believing he was-and had looked at several houses before deciding that was the one; the one he and Mickey could live their lives in. But, three years since he bought his house-their house-he still hadn't found Mickey. The house had become more of a reminder that he was alone-that Mickey and his child were still somewhere out of reach-than the comfort it once was. Ian shook the thoughts off before walking out of his house and towards his little crossover, prepared to do his shopping -and anything that would keep him from wallowing in his loneliness on his day off-for the week.

 

"Daddy! Can I get this one?" Ian hated that word; hated that he was finally realizing he'd never hear it addressed to him. The first time he'd said those words to Fiona, she pointed out he could easily find another guy-another Carrier-and start a family. The thing his siblings didn't know, though, was that he hadn't even casually fucked anyone since he'd lost Mickey; he had no interest in sex, anymore. So anytime he heard a child-particularly if they were close to the age his child would be right now-he cringed.

"Yeah, Chipmunk." Ian froze, his hand just inches from the box of cereal he was reaching for. He knew that voice; could identify it anywhere even after five years of only hearing it in the form of listening to the voicemails the owner had left him five years ago when he'd run off with Monica. That was Mickey's voice.

"Thank you!" The little boy with Mickey-who sounded too young to possibly be Yevgeny, so it must be theirs-pipped up. Ian slowly turned, finding the brunette he'd done nothing but miss for five years standing in front of a shopping cart with a tiny redheaded boy by his side. Ian's heart clenched in his chest; their son was fucking beautiful. He can't believe how perfectly he combined his own features with Mickey's; Mickey's blue eyes, nose, and dimples with his own vibrant red hair, chin, and smile. He was the most amazing thing Ian had ever seen, and he had missed four years of his life.

"Mickey?" He finally croaked out, still staring at Mickey and their son. Mickey flinched but still looked up, his face paling when he saw Ian. Ian knew he had changed over the past five years-he had been seventeen the last time Mickey had seen him, and he was twenty-two, now-but he could tell Mickey still recognized him.

"The hell are you doin' here?" Mickey asked, reaching down and grabbing the boy's hand.

"Daddy?" The little boy asked, looking up at Mickey with the same blue eyes Ian had fallen in love with years ago. "He got hair like me!" He said with a wide, dimpled smile when Mickey looked down at him.

"We gotta go, Chipmunk." Ian had heard him use the nickname before they noticed each other, but he could tell Mickey was deliberately trying to avoid using the boy's name. "Shoulda fuckin' left Chicago when I had the chance." Mickey muttered, though Ian and the boy at Mickey's side both seemed to hear him.

"What's your name?" The boy asked, ignoring what Mickey had just said. Ian had to laugh, because that sounded like Mickey, himself, and he had obviously passed it down to their son.

"Ian." Ian introduced, kneeling to be at his son's eye level.

"Your big name!" The boy exclaimed, rolling his pretty blue eyes.

"Ian Clayton Gallagher. What's yours?" Ian asked, smiling softly at the beautiful little boy in front of him.

"Maxton Krew Tyshchenko." The boy said, stumbling over the last name, slightly. "Daddy calls me Max." Ian would have cried at his son not even having his last name if Max wasn't so damn precious.

"Nice to meet you, Max." Ian managed to get out, glancing up at Mickey who seemed very uncomfortable.

"Why'd you call daddy "Mickey?" Only Aunt Mandy and Uncle Iggy call daddy that." Max told Ian, reaching out a hand to touch Ian's hair softly.

"What does everyone else call daddy?" Ian asked, seeing that Mickey wasn't going to stop the boy from talking when he seemed so happy.

"Alex. Daddy's big name is Alexander Tyshchenko." So that was why Ian hadn't been able to find him; he'd been going by some variation of his middle name and his mother's maiden name.

"Mick-" Mickey cut Ian off by holding a single hand-the one that wasn't clutching Max's smaller one-up.

"Made your choice years ago, Gallagher. Gonna get  _my_ son outta here before you waste anymore of your precious fuckin' time on us." At this, something seemed to click in little Max's head.

"Daddy?" This time, he was looking at Ian as he said the word. Ian was on the verge of bursting into tears because of this little boy.

"Max, we really gotta go; daddy works, tonight." Mickey said, scooping the boy up like he weighed nothing at all.

"Are you other daddy?" Max asked, still staring at Ian as Mickey sat him in the front of the cart.

"Yeah." Ian managed to say around the lump in his throat. He couldn't believe his son was calling him "daddy"; it was something he thought he'd never hear and fuck if it wasn't the best sound in the world. Ian watched Mickey walk out of the isle with Max in the cart, feeling his heart shatter the way it did every morning he woke up without Mickey. "Mickey, wait!" He called out running after Mickey and their child.

"Ian, go. You made your fuckin' choice and I made mine." Mickey sounded exhausted, and Ian wished he could do something to fix that.

"I changed my mind five years ago, Mick; been lookin' for you-and Max-the whole time." Ian informed his ex-boyfriend. "I got back on the meds as soon as I found out, got a good fuckin' job... I started puttin' my life together so I wouldn't be a complete mess when I found you two."

"Why?" Mickey asked, looking at Max instead of Ian.

"Because I fuckin' love you, dumbass." Ian sighed. "I love you and I know I fucked up, but I was seventeen!"

"You can't just drop in and out of a kid's fuckin' life, Ian." Mickey sighed, glad Max had distracted himself by playing a game on his phone.

"If I planned on doin' that I wouldn't have spent five years looking for you or chased you down just now." Ian pointed out. "What do I have to do to prove I'm serious?"

"Your fuckin' boyfriend ain't gonna be happy if he finds out you're talkin' to the ex you knocked up." Mickey snarked, obviously wanting Ian to leave him the fuck alone.

"Don't have one." Ian proclaimed. "Been single for five years 'cause I've been lookin' for your ass. Started to think you moved to fuckin' Canada or somethin' but you just changed your name and moved to the Northside."

"What the hell you want me to do, Ian? Drop to my knees 'cause you thought about me a couple of times in five years?" Mickey shot back. "I did what I had to for my son!"

"Then let me fuckin' do somethin'!" Ian shouted right back, glad Mickey had put a pair of Paw Patrol headphones on the little boy. "Let me be a fuckin' dad to the kid I helped make." Ian begged.

"Gimme you're fuckin' phone." Mickey finally sighed. When Ian handed it over, Mickey typed something in and passed it back. "Text me so I have yours-not now, 'cause Max has my phone-and you can see him, sometime." Ian didn't expect Mickey to give in that easily. "I'm never takin' your ass back, but Max has been askin' about his other daddy. I'm doin' this 'cause I love him more than I hate you."

"Thanks, Mick." Ian wasn't deterred; he would just have to work his fucking ass off to get Mickey back. And in the mean time, he'd get to spend time with his son. "I have the same number... If you still have it." Ian never wanted to risk losing a chance to get back in touch with Mickey, so he'd had the same number the whole time.

"Think I got it." He could see something in Mickey's face; he'd kept that number for a reason. "Gotta get Max home." Mickey said in way of a goodbye before moving to checkout and leave the store. Ian stood their smiling for a moment before he went to finish his own shopping, actually happy for the first time in years.


	4. A Fresh Start

After a week of texting back and forth-all texts concerning Max, of course-Ian convinced Mickey to bring Max to his house for the day. Mickey pulled up the the address Ian had given him, sure he'd read it wrong.

_Mick: Hey, you sure you sent me the right address?_

Mickey texted Ian after re-reading the address five times. The house in front of him was a cute, little brick English style house with a huge Bay window looking out onto the front yard. Mickey rolled his eyes; of course he'd believed Ian when he said he was single. He was a fucking idiot when it came to Ian.

_Firecrotch: Yeah. You guys here?_

_Mick: Yeah. Outside._

When Mickey looked up from his phone again Ian was walking out of the house. He was dressed down-just a pair of sweatpants and a tanktop-but Mickey couldn't stop staring at Ian as he walked over to his car. "Hi." Ian greeted with a smile as Mickey climbed out of the car.

"Hey." Mickey responded, taking a sleeping Max out of the backseat. "Kid always falls asleep in the car." Mickey mused, patting Max gently on the back to wake the little redhead up. "Boyfriend don't care we're here?" Mickey asked as Max finally started to wake up.

"Told you I don't have one." Ian replied, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Come on, man; this place is fuckin' nice. Tellin' me it's just you livin' here?" Mickey inquired, shifting a drowsy Max onto his hip.

"Yeah; bought it about three years ago. Payments are a bitch, but I like it." Ian said. "Hey Max." He greeted the boy who was slowly opening his bright blue eyes.

"Hi." Max greeted quietly. "Where are we?" He asked Mickey, snuggling into his father's neck.

"This is Ian's house." He refused to call Ian Max's father; he'd never been there for his son. "Wanna walk or you want daddy to carry you?"

"Carry." Max said simply. Ian couldn't get over how attached to Mickey their little boy was.

"Mind gettin' his backpack?" Mickey asked, signaling to the backseat of his shitty little car. Ian nodded, quickly grabbing Max's little Spongebob backpack and leading his two boys inside.

"Hyde!" Ian called as he walked in.

"Who's Hyde?" Max asked, more awake now that Mickey had sat him on his tiny feet.

"My dog." Ian replied with a smile at his son. He'd gotten Hyde on the advice of his therapist, but had quickly learned the Norfolk terrier he'd fallen in love with on some pet advertising site and bought was amazing with children. "Hey, Hyde!" He greeted the small dog as he ran into the living room.

"Can I pet him?" Max asked, staring in awe at the dog.

"Yeah; Hyde loves kids." That was all it took for Max to sit on the floor, playing with the scruffy looking blond dog.

"House and a dog. Not much of a single life, man." Mickey teased, watching as Max scratched the dog's stomach. "House payments and a little shit machine ain't gonna get you many dates."

"Not lookin' to date. I like my dog and my house." Ian said, keeping his eyes on Max and Hyde. "Bought it after I had enough saved up to put down a decent down payment... Kept thinkin' when I found you it'd be ours; yours, mine, and Max's." Ian admitted, waiting for Mickey to tell him to stop acting like a bitch.

"Why the hell're you tryin' so hard? Can't be that hard to find a piece of ass." Mickey knew he was being difficult, but he wasn't about to let himself fall back into the disaster that is loving Ian Gallagher.

"Mick, I already told you I've been lookin' for you since I found out you left; I thought the break up was temporary, like every one before. I didn't know I'd really fuckin' lost you." Ian rushed, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If I would've thought about your middle name bein' Aleksandr or your mother's maiden name bein' Tyshchenko I might not've lost so much time with you two."

"I can't do this shit, Ian; Max is what matters." Mickey sighed, sitting on the plush, green sofa as he watched Max play with Hyde. "You and me? That shit was over years ago. But Max wants to know you, so you can work on bein' a dad to him."

"You dating anyone?" Ian asked, taking a seat next to Mickey.

"It matter?" Mickey asked, feeling defensive.

"Does to me." Ian replied, watching the gorgeous brunette man as he smiled down at their son laughing in the floor.

"No. Don't got time; I work nights and spend all day with Max." Mickey told Ian honestly. "Got someone you're fuckin' who's gonna show up?"

"I meant it when I said I'd been single the whole time." Ian muttered. "No boyfriends, no dates, no fuck buddies... No sex." Mickey turned to Ian with wide eyes.

"You seriously expect me to believe you've gone this long without fuckin' anyone? Even I've made time to get fucked a few times!" Mickey exclaimed, breaking Ian's heart slightly by pointing out there had been other men since him. "The meds messin' with you?"

"No; I can get hard, just don't want anyone else." Ian told him. "I only want you, Mick; you and Max are what matters to me." Ian placed a hand on Mickey's thigh. "Let me prove I'm all in."

"Gonna take a long fuckin' time to convince me." Mickey said, trying not to let his resolve cave as Ian rubbed his thigh softly.

"Daddy! Daddy Ian's puppy is cute!" Max giggles, making both men turn back to where Max was laying in the floor with Hyde licking his face.

"He's perfect." Ian commented, watching Max with a fond smile.

"Yeah, I know." Mickey replied, loving how at ease Max seemed. Ian may have to work to win him over, but Max was sold on the idea that his "daddy Ian" was awesome.

 


	5. Little Talks

"How have you been doing since Mickey and Max came back into your life, Ian?" Dr. Holloway asked, looking at where Ian was sitting on the couch across from her, his hands clasped in his lap.

"Good-better, actually-since I know they're okay, now." Ian said with a soft smile. "Mick let me keep Max last Thursday while he was workin'." Ian thought back over the past month-over the growing relationship with his son-and the trust Mickey was starting to show in him. "Got to be a real dad for the night; made him dinner, gave him his bath, put him to bed... It was amazing. I miss four years of this little person's life, and now I have him back." Ian smiled at the tall blonde woman sitting across from him. "I spent so much time wondering what my baby would look like or act like and now I see him and... I didn't think I could love someone more than I love Mick."

"Does Mickey know about our sessions?" Dr. Holloway asked as she looked back down at her notes.

"I told him I'm dealing with my disorder-getting help-but I haven't told him I see a Therapist twice a week." Ian admitted, wishing his sessions were at once a month, again, but after his failed suicide attempt two years ago he understood why he needed more frequent sessions.

"Does he know about your suicide attempt?" Ian cringed. "Ian, if you want to form a healthy relationship with Mickey-"

"I should tell him I swallowed a whole bottle of pills and I'd be dead if Debbie hadn't been stayin' with me and found me on the floor?" Ian interrupted, looking down at his shaking hands. "I love him, and I don't wanna scare him away because of some shit I pulled when I was on a low."

"You're doing much better these days, Ian; I feel like we can go down to once a week." Ian couldn't fight his smile as Dr. Holloway spoke; he was going to spend less time in therapy a week!

 

"So your shrink said you could start goin' less?" Mickey asked as they sat down to dinner with Max.

"Yeah. Down to once a week." Ian stated proudly, helping Max eat his Macaroni and cheese. "Said I'm doin' better." 

"Good." Mickey said quietly. "The hell were you goin' so often, anyway?"

"Did somethin' really stupid a few years ago; coulda ended bad." Ian didn't want Mickey worrying about him; didn't want him thinking he couldn't be trusted with Max.

"How'd you do it?" Mickey asked, obviously reading between the lines. "Know it wasn't your wrists, so what was it? Belt? Pills?"

"Pills." Ian admitted with a cringe. "Thought I was never gonna see you again; never gonna see Max." Mickey nodded, wiping Max's face. "Think you can't trust me with him, now?"

"You gonna try again?" Mickey challenged, raising one eyebrow.

"No." Ian insisted, shaking his head fiercely. "Never wanna risk losin' another day with Max. Or you."

"Then I trust you with my son." Ian wished he could ignore the way Mickey still refused to call Max their son, but he couldn't. "He loves you."

"I love him." Ian said with a smile, kissing Max's soft red hair.

"Daddy Ian! Quit it!" Max giggled, swatting at Ian's face.

"Think I should quit kissing our baby?" Ian asked Mickey with a smile.

"Nah; think he likes it." Mickey replied with a subtle wink in Ian's direction. As Ian continued to plant kisses all over Max's face, he thought that-while things weren't perfect-he was rebuilding everything he lost so many years ago.


	6. Just The Way You Are

Mickey wished he hadn't noticed how crushed Ian had looked when he informed the redhead that he had a date and asked if he could keep Max for the night. He knows that-over the past two months-he and Ian had developed a good system when it came to raising Max together, but he still wasn't sure he could ever take Ian back after how badly the younger man had broken his heart. He honestly didn't even want to go on this date, but Mandy had met this man at her receptionist job and insisted Mickey would like him, so here he was. He walked up to the restaurant the man asked Mickey-who hated his fucking sister for giving some Northside prick his phone number-to meet him at with more hesitation than he expected to feel.

"Alex?" A tall, redheaded man-who Mickey was assuming had colored his hair to achieve the shade of red he had-in a tailored suit asked. "I'm David." He said with a smile, extending his hand to Mickey. Mandy had given him the fake name he'd been going by for five years, and Mickey wished she hadn't; he wanted someone to call him "Mickey" not "Alex" if they were supposed to be dating. "We have reservations, so let's head in."

Mickey didn't like the place as soon as they entered; too fancy, too dimly lit, too different from having pizza or macaroni and cheese in Ian's brightly lit little house. Why was he thinking about Ian? The asshole broke his fucking heart! Mickey shook the thoughts of the-natural-redhead with a broad smile and shining green eyes off to focus on the man with a much softer smile and dark brown eyes across from him at the table. He wasn't unattractive, Mickey realized, but he wasn't someone Mickey could see himself falling for.

"So, Mandy said you have a kid." David started, clearing his throat in an attempt to pull Mickey from his thoughts. He could talk about Max; Max was essentially all he'd talked or thought about since he found out he was pregnant.

"Yeah, a son; Max." Mickey said with an easy smile. Max always put him more at ease, even if he wasn't around.

"How old?" David asked, clearly pleased that Mickey wasn't off in deep fucking space, now.

"Four." Mickey answered, looking down at the menu in front of him; Ian didn't refer to Max as Mickey's kid, and Ian knew how old he was. Sure, Ian was Max's father, but it took points off for David and Mickey couldn't even tell you why.

"I got a daughter a few years older than that; she just turned seven." David said, taking his phone out and passing it to Mickey. On the screen was an adorable little blonde girl with a gappy smile, brown eyes, and spattered freckles all over her pale cheeks. "Love of my life." David mused as Mickey passed the phone back.

"This is Max." Mickey said shyly, pulling up a picture of Max sitting on Ian's living room floor with Hyde and his Ian-copy smile on his face and passing his phone to David.

"Mandy said you had a thing for redheads... take it his mother was one." David said offhandedly, looking down at Max's picture. "He's beautiful." David passed Mickey back his phone-purposely brushing their fingers-as he spoke.

"Father." Mickey corrected. He was once again thinking of how Ian wouldn't have to ask stupid fucking questions or make small talk; he knows Mickey and knows exactly how they got their little boy. "I'm a carrier."

"Cool. His father's not in the picture, I guess?" Yes, Ian was; he was probably making Max dinner right now.

"He is." He loves Max-thinks the sun fucking rises and sets at the boy's command-and is actually an amazing fucking father. "Max is with him."

"My ex-wife's got custody of Bella; only get her every other weekend. You guys got a similar deal?" No, if Max asks to see his "papa"-a name Max decided on when he came to the conclusion that "daddy Ian" was too much to say all the time-Mickey would just call or text Ian. If Ian was working or in therapy, he'd tell Mickey when he got off and ask if Mickey wanted him to pick Max up or if he wanted to come to the house for dinner.

"No, Max sees him whenever he wants." Ian cares too fucking much to only see Max every other weekend now that he has their boy in his life. "Sorry... Not used to bein' away from Max on my nights off." A lame ass excuse; he's too busy thinking about the boy's father who broke his fucking heart to pieces so small he's not sure it can actually be fixed.

"Can I ask you something?" David asked, meeting Mickey's eyes as he looked up from the menu in front of him again. Mickey nodded, unsure of what David wanted to ask. "What's your relationship with... Sorry, you didn't tell me his name."

"Ian." Mickey supplied, his throat feeling far too tight.

"What's your relationship with Ian like?" David asked, expression unreadable.

"We broke up before Max was born. He's a good dad to our son, but that's it." No it's not. He's the only person-other than his mother, siblings, and son-Mickey had ever loved. Ian still held all of the shattered remains of Mickey's heart in his hands.

"You're still in love with this guy, Alex. So why are you here? Is he married? Got a boyfriend?" David asked, not sounding the least bit hurt.

"No. He's single." He's been living like a fucking Monk since he broke up with Mickey, waiting to get him back.

"And he's there any time Max wants to see him?" David continued.

"Yeah." Any time Max wanted Ian, he would make the time to see him as soon as he was done with work or therapy; had cancelled plans with his siblings so he could see Max. He even called on the nights he didn't have the little redhead to tell their son goodnight.

"Let me tell you something. I'm single and love Bella with everything in me, but I've never dropped everything because Mallory called me. I'm not there any time my ex asks me to be, and I sure as hell wouldn't be okay watching Bella because Mal had a blind date." Ian wasn't; he looked like Mickey had ripped his heart from his chest and showed it to him. "If this guy is willing to do all of that shit for you, Alex, he's still in love with you. So, I'm gonna ask, are you still in love with him?"

 

"Mick?" Ian's raspy voice-and disheveled appearance-where clear indicators that Mickey had waken him up by pounding on the door. Mickey would feel bad about that, later; he needed fucking answers right now.

"He called me Alex." Mickey wasn't sure why that was what he started with as he entered the dark house, but it was. "He called me Alex, took me to some fancy fuckin' restaurant, listened to what I was sayin', asked questions about Max... Why the hell couldn't I like this guy?" Mickey ranted, watching as a very confused Ian rubbed his tired green eyes.

"You came over to tell me how great the guy you went out with was?" Ian asked, exhaustion clear in his voice.

"No! I came over to tell your scrawny ass that he was a nice fuckin' guy-who dyed his hair fuckin' red because Mandy told him I had a thing for gingers-and I kept comparing him to the asshole who broke my fuckin' heart when I was pregnant!" Mickey exclaimed, pulling at his hair in exasperation. "His eyes weren't right, he called Max my "kid" instead of Chipmunk or Max, his hair wasn't really fuckin' red, he never said "fuck" once... why can't I be happy with a nice guy?" Mickey's voice broke at the end.

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Mick?" Ian was more awake now-if only slightly-but still didn't understand why Mickey had come over here.

"Are you really still in love with me?" Mickey asked, looking Ian dead in the eyes; he needed the truth.

"Yes." Ian answered without a second thought.

"When was the last time you went on a date?" Mickey asked, still staring at Ian.

"Last real date? The time I went out with Ned and you beat the shit outta him. Last thing I consider a date? When we went to the dugouts that last time." Ian replied honestly.

"When was the last time you had sex?" Mickey needed to know if Ian had been lying to him for the past three months; needed to know if he was holding out hope for nothing.

"Same day." Ian said. "Mick, what's goin' on? Why are you here? And what was wrong with this guy; he sounds great." Mickey swore he could see Ian's heart breaking.

"He wasn't you." Mickey told Ian honestly. "His eyes were brown, not green, he didn't call me out on my shit, he didn't smile too wide or laugh too loud, he didn't have his own fuckin' stories about Max... he didn't fuckin' look at me the way you do."

"Mick..." Ian trailed off; he wasn't sure what to say. He'd wanted this for five years, but now it almost seemed like Mickey was here because his date was a dud. "You can't come over when your date didn't go how you expected and say shit like that to me; you know I still love you-think I've said it to you every day since I found you and Max-and it's not fuckin' fair to get my hopes up like that."

"I told him I'm still in love with you." Mickey rushed out. "I told him I was still in love with you, because it's true and he could tell I couldn't stop thinkin' about you the whole fuckin' time."

"What?" Ian didn't know what else to say; he just stared at Mickey.

"I gotta know if this is just 'cause you wanna be around Max or if you really love me, Ian." Mickey's voice cracked again. He wanted to throw himself into Ian's arms and let his redhead hold him; because Ian would always be his, dammit.

"Mickey, I love you. Yeah, I love our son, too, but as much as I love Max, I know that you'd let me see him without us bein' together. I don't want that though; I wanna wake up every day and see you huggin' your pillow, wanna fall asleep listenin' to that little sniffling thing you do... I wanna be with you, Mikhailo." Mickey involuntarily shivered at Ian using his full name as he stepped closer to Mickey. "Give me a chance to prove I'm not the same fuckin' idiot I was when I was seventeen." Mickey nodded; he wanted that, too-had since before he found out he was pregnant with Max-and Ian was offering to prove he was serious. Could they work this time? Could they get over everything they'd been through?


	7. Make Your Wish

"Happy Birthday, daddy!" Max cheered, hopping up and down on Mickey's bed. Mickey could hear Ian laughing from the other side of the room-shouldn't have given the motherfucker a key-and knew his son and Ian had something planned. He and Ian were slowly working on getting back together; stealing quick kisses, talking about shit that didn't involve Max, flirting like fucking teenagers, and spending far more time together than they did when their only interactions were centered around when Max wanted to see Ian.

"Thanks, Chipmunk." Mickey mumbled, pulling Max down to hug him. "What'd you and Papa plan?" Max just giggled and shook his head, not willing to give up the little secret he was sharing with Ian.

"Max, go get daddy the surprise you got him." Ian instructed from the foot of the bed. Max gasped-abashed with himself for forgetting-and ran out of the room. Ian grinned as Max left before draping himself over Mickey's body. They weren't together, but moments like this-with Ian's lips moving perfectly in sync with his own-Mickey wonders if it would really be so bad to take Ian back, already.

"Happy birthday, baby." Ian whispered against Mickey's lips. Mickey had gotten used to Ian using pet names for him since the night of his failed date, but it still made Mickey smile. "Got any plans now that you're twenty-five? Rent a car? Drive off to Mexico? Find a rich old guy to marry you?"

"You're the one with the grey pube fetish, here." Mickey teased.

"Must be why I like you." Ian shot back with a pleased grin.

"Fuck off, I'm two years older than your ass." Mickey laughed, swatting at Ian's shoulder.

"But I'm still young; I'm twenty-three. You're old now, baby." Ian replied before planting a soft kiss on Mickey's lips and rolling off him. "Max is gonna be back any second." They had decided they didn't want Max to know they were trying to work things out until they knew where they stood, but Mickey was starting to regret that decision; he hated lying to his baby boy.

Max re-entered the room a moment later with a broad smile-one only Ian could rival-a hand-drawn card in his left hand and a tiny box in his right. "Papa help me write it." He announced proudly as he handed Mickey the card covered in colorful scribbles, Batman stickers, and glitter.

**_"I LOVE MY DADDY!"_ **

Mickey smiled as he read the sloppily written note on the front of the card above two little stick figures-a tall one with a black scribble on top of it's head, and a smaller one with an orange scribble on it's head, their stick arms touching to represent holding hands-with his name and age in the bottom corner, obviously written by Ian. "Thank you, Chipmunk; daddy loves it." Max looked pleased with himself as Mickey said this.

"Papa write you a letter, too." Max said, tapping the card as a manner of telling Mickey to open it.

_"Mick,_

_You loved me when I didn't deserve it, gave me the most gorgeous son I could ever dream of, and let me be a part of both of your lives when you weren't sure you could trust me. You're the most loving, selfless, beautiful man I've ever known, and I'm so happy you're the man I fell in love with. Happy birthday, baby._

_Love,_

_Ian."_

Mickey knew Max hadn't read Ian's note; he couldn't even read, yet. But he was moved that he'd helped Max make him a birthday card and written what he had, inside. "Thank you." He said, voice thick with tears.

"Did I do bad, daddy?" Max asked, looking crushed as his blue eyes met Mickey's.

"No, baby boy; you did so good. Daddy just loves it a whole lot." Mickey amended, kissing his son's forehead. "This is happy crying." When the fuck did Mickey turn into the guy who  _happy cried_ over a piece of paper with a crayon drawing and Batman stickers?

"Papa get me stickers to make it pretty!" Max exclaimed, his broad smile returning. "We get this for you." Max told Mickey, handing him the small box. Mickey tore the superhero wrapping paper off, revealing a hand-painted picture frame with a photo of Max smiling and waving from a swing inside. "I color it!"

"It's perfect, Chipmunk." It really was; he loved seeing that smile on his little boy's face, and he obviously took a lot of time making his present for his father. "You did all this with him?" Mickey asked, turning to Ian.

"Yeah; he wanted to do somethin' special for your birthday. Debs told me about a place I could take him to make the frame-she took Franny there a few times-and we made the card last time he stayed at the house." Ian seemed a little self conscious, though Mickey couldn't understand why; this was the most anyone had ever done for him on his birthday. "Let him pick out the picture, too."

"This is awesome, Ian." He leaned over, placing a soft, loving kiss on Ian's lips. He'd made up his mind; Ian was worth the risk. "Thank you for doin' all this with our baby." That was the first time Mickey had referred to Max as "their baby" to Ian and the smile on the redheaded man's face said it all; said how fucking happy he was to have his man and his son in his life.

"Daddy... You love papa?" Max asked with wide eyes. He didn't sound upset, he actually sounded thrilled. He jumped back onto the bed, throwing himself down between his parents. "You love papa and you love me!" Mickey had to laugh at the four-year-old's enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I do, Max." He smoothed the boy's hair back into place, not looking away from Ian. "Daddy loves papa very much." And that was that; Mickey was throwing caution to the wind and enjoying his life with his boyfriend and his son.


	8. I Need Your Love

Things were good for Mickey and Ian; they were falling into a good pattern after Mickey had gotten a job managing a small restaurant-his experience as the night manager of a little dive bar had done him good in the long run-and Mickey and Max had started spending most nights at Ian's house. Mickey loved waking up to Ian playing with their son on his side of the bed. Today, though, was the first time Mickey would be seeing Ian's siblings since they met again almost six months ago. "Do I really gotta be here?" Mickey whined as he and Ian laid in Ian's bed in the early morning before Max had woken up.

"Debbie's been beggin' to see you for months, Mick." Ian reminded his boyfriend, playing with the baby fine hairs at the back of his neck. "And I want everyone to finally meet Max." Damn him for bringing Max into this. "Please, baby? Just a few hours; if anyone gives you any shit I'll make 'em leave."

"You know Lip and Fiona hate my ass." Mickey muttered into Ian's chest. "Don't wanna put Max in the middle of their petty bullshit." Mickey didn't want to admit he was afraid one of those assholes would say something that would hurt their son, but he knew Ian could see it; Ian always seemed to know what Mickey was thinking.

"I won't let them say shit to you or Max." Ian promised. "You two are what matters; not what my alcoholic brother or self righteous sister fuckin' think."

"They're your family." Mickey protested.

"You and Max are my family, baby." Ian deadpanned. "And I spent too much fuckin' time missin' you to lose you over Fiona and Lip's bullshit."

"They're lookin' out for you." Mickey tried to defend, but he had heard Lip on the phone telling Ian he would fuck up his whole life by getting back with Mickey. "Want you to be happy."

"They want me to resent any fuckin' relationship like they do. And I'm not gonna, because I know you're it for me." Ian lifted Mickey's chin to bring their lips together in sweet, loving kiss. "Let's go make Max some breakfast."

 

"Mickey! You look great!" Debbie chimed as she entered the house with a little redheaded girl-who he assumed must be Franny-trailing behind her. She pulled Mickey into a hug as soon as she was close enough, smiling the whole time. "Shit, I missed you!"

"Missed you, too, little red." Though Debbie was now a woman with a child of her own, Mickey still felt the nickname fit the beautiful redhead.

"Franny, come here, sweetie!" She called out. The little girl trotted over to her mother obediently while looking at Mickey with apprehensive brown eyes. "Franny, this is your Uncle Mickey." Debbie told her daughter, placing her hand on the girl's curly red hair.

"Hi, Uncle Mickey." Franny greeted, seemingly fine with the strange brunette man once her mother introduced him as her Uncle. "You got pretty eyes."

"Thanks, Franny." He replied with a smile; this kid looked so much like Ian and Debbie it was unreal. "She's beautiful, Debs."

"Thanks. Where's Max?" Mickey looked towards his son's bedroom when Debbie asked this, wondering why his usually social little boy wasn't out here.

"Max?" He called out, trying not to cringe as Fiona and Lip-who had been talking to Ian on the other side of the room-turned to look at him. Max walked out of his bedroom a moment later with an armful of toys. "Hey, Chipmunk, this is your Aunt Debbie and your cousin Franny." He introduced, watching Max as he noticed the other child in the room.

"You wanna play with my cars?" Max asked Franny.

"Okay!" The girl chirped, fallowing Max to the center of the living room to play.

"Usually more talkative than that." Mickey told Debbie.

"He's cute Mick; can't decide if he looks more like you or Ian." Mickey had a hard time deciding that, himself, so he understood where Debbie was coming from.

"Hey, Debs." Ian greeted with a hug as he made his way over to his younger sister. "Max already decide Franny was his favorite for today?" Ian asked his boyfriend.

"Yeah; saw another kid and wanted nothin' to do with the fuckin' old people." Mickey joked nervously. He couldn't help feeling a little anxiety with Fiona and Lip standing in the corner whispering to one another as they watched him with matching judgemental glares. He relaxed slightly when Ian stepped behind him, wrapping his long arms around Mickey's slim waist.

"You two look happy." Debbie commented. It didn't sound snide or condescending; it sounded loving. "I'm glad you got back together; Mick's good for you, Ian." Mickey heard Lip scoff from the other side of the room.

"Fuckin' talked about this, Lip." Ian called over to his brother in a warning tone, keeping his eyes on Mickey in an attempt to stay calm in front of his son and his niece.

"Come on, man, this is complete bullshit!" Lip shouted, causing both children to stop what they were doing and turn to watch Ian and Lip. "He wants you back when he sees you got a nice house and a good job? He's just gonna spread his fuckin' legs and stick you with another kid to pay for!"

"Ian, don't worry about it." Though what Lip said hurt and was completely untrue-he and Ian hadn't even had sex since getting back together-Mickey didn't want to be the catalyst in a fight between the normally close brothers.

"No, he's not pullin' this shit in front of our son, Mick." Ian was protective-Mickey had always known this-but that had gone to another level once he had Max to worry about. Ian stepped away from Mickey, making his way across the room to Lip before Mickey could stop the incredibly pissed off redheaded man. "I fuckin' told you as soon as your ass got here not to start your shit with Mickey." Ian seethed once he was right in the blond man's face.

"You seriously that afraid to lose a piece of ass?" Lip challenged, seemingly unaffected by Ian's much larger presence.

"Debbie, take Max and Franny to Max's room." Debbie instantly complied with Ian's command, ushering both children into the boy's bedroom before the exchange between Ian and Lip got even more heated than it already was. Once Max's bedroom door was closed Ian clocked Lip in the jaw, causing the older man's lip to split and blood to run down the side of his face. Mickey stood stockstill as Ian landed another punch to the side of Lip's head. "Shut the fuck up for once, Lip!" Ian practically growled, dodging a punch Lip threw.

"Ian, stop!" Fiona cried out, trying to step between her brothers as Lip finally landed a hit to Ian's nose, causing a loud crack to sound through the room.

"Ian! Ian, baby, look at me." Mickey demanded after running to his boyfriend's side. "It's not fuckin' worth it, Ian." He told the green eyed man, placing a hand on the side of his bloodied face.

"The fuck is wrong with you, Ian?! Are you not takin' your meds?" Fiona screeched, glaring at Mickey as if he were the one who had started the fight.

"Not every fuckin' thing I do is because I'm Bipolar, Fiona." Ian snapped. Mickey had never actually heard Ian admit out loud that he was Bipolar, but he was still too shocked from watching Ian get hit to react to it. "I fuckin' told both of you not to start shit about my family."

"We're your family; he's the slut who didn't think to make you use a fuckin' condom!" Fiona snapped back. Mickey hated that word-had felt it was true from the moment he found out he was pregnant with Max-and  _Fiona Gallagher_ was throwing it at him.

"Go." Ian said in a deadly calm voice.

"What?" Fiona asked lamely.

"My family wouldn't say the shit you two said about the father of my child-the guy they know I've been in love with since I was a fuckin' teenager-and they sure as shit wouldn't say it in front of my son." Ian replied in the same emotionless tone Mickey associated with heartbreak. "So go." The look he gave Fiona and Lip spoke far more than the tone of his voice. "You can come back when you can act like my fuckin' family." Both of his older siblings left, leaving Mickey to check Ian's injuries.

 

"Didn't have to do that." Mickey whispered as he and Ian lay in Ian's-their, Ian kept insisting-bed later that night. He had felt pretty down on himself since Fiona had used the word "slut" to describe him, earlier, and even the blowjob Ian had given him once Max was asleep in his own bed hadn't removed those thoughts from his head.

"Yes I did; told you I wasn't lettin' them talk shit about you." Ian insisted, stroking Mickey's hair as the older man rested his head on his chest.

"Weren't wrong; not exactly a virgin." He could feel the crippling depression he always felt creeping up on the edges of his psyche when he thought of himself as nothing more than a slut Ian had used to get off.

"You're not a fuckin' slut, baby. We were dating, we had sex, and yeah, you got pregnant. But that doesn't make you a slut." Ian told him gently. Ian kissed the top of Mickey's head, wincing at his sore-but thankfully not broken-nose.

"Am I, though?" Mickey could feel tears in his eyes. He fucking hated that he could be this openly vulnerable around Ian, but also loved it; loved that he didn't have to keep up the act that he was nothing more than some Southside thug. "Far as everyone knew I had a kid at eighteen... sure, Svetlana's kid ain't mine 'Cause I couldn't knock her up, but I still got pregnant when I was nineteen."

"Mickey, you are nothing like they said, okay?" Ian asked him as he lifted Mickey's head off his chest. "I know you and I love you; you're not out for money, you don't want me because I have a fuckin' house, and you had a kid with someone you were in love with. You're not perfect, but neither am I."

"Just want you to love me." Mickey admitted through tears and sobs. He didn't just want Ian to love him; he needed it. Needed to feel like he was good enough. "Wanna be good enough for you."

"You're perfect for me, baby." Ian soothed, allowing Mickey to lay on his chest again. "Love you so much, Mick; you have no fuckin' idea." After that, Ian let Mickey cry himself out on his chest, both falling asleep once the blue eyed man had calmed down.


	9. Hold Onto Me

Mickey wasn't acting like himself. In all of the time Ian had known Mickey, the brunette had never been quiet or abstained from stating his opinion, yet that was exactly what he was doing. He had stoped calling Max "Chipmunk" and started calling him "Maxton" when he'd speak at all. "Hey, Mick, Max wanted to know if you're okay... haven't moved all day." Ian said in the gentlest tone he could muster. He'd went to the small house Mickey was renting and found Max sitting on the floor of the living room with a box of cookies, saying Mickey hadn't been out of bed all day. "Gonna tell me what's goin' on, baby?"

"Little down." Mickey replied with a shrug. "He okay?"

"Eatin' cookies on the floor and watchin' Paw Patrol." Ian informed Mickey, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Baby, you gotta tell me what's wrong so I can help you fix it."

"Not a good dad, a good boyfriend, not even a good enough fuckin' lay to keep anyone around." Mickey sounded broken; sounded completely defeated.

"The hell is this all comin' from?" Ian asked, looking down at the blue-eyed man on the bed. "You're an amazing dad, Mick. And I fuckin' love you; I'm not goin' anywhere." He soothed, rubbing Mickey's back softly. "You're depressed, that doesn't say shit about your parenting skills."

"Daddy..." Max entered the room, crawling into the bed next to Mickey. "Are you sad?"

"A little, Chipmunk." Ian was just glad Mickey was back to calling their son by his nickname. "But daddy's okay." Max seemed to believe him, but hugged Mickey tightly, just in case.

 

"Reminded me of my first depressive episode." Ian admitted as he and Mickey lay in Mickey's bed with Max asleep between them. "Wasn't sure you'd talk to me, baby."

"Wasn't gonna." Mickey agreed quietly. "Didn't wanna shut you out."

"Glad you didn't... Mick, Fiona's been pissed at me since I moved out and stopped payin' the bills so she could "invest in herself" or whatever the fuck she's callin' it; been buyin' shit like Laundromats and apartments but it's just puttin' her in debt so she was countin' on my paycheck to keep the lights on." Ian explained. "She's pissed that I wanted to find you and Max-wanted to start my own life-and she took that shit out on you." If Ian didn't think it was a pussy move, he'd have fucking punched Fiona just like he did Lip. "I'm sorry she said that shit to you, Mick, but it's not true. So what if no one else was more than a fuck? Just meant I had the chance to get you back."

"You left before, too." Mickey's wounds ran deeper than Ian had realized; he was obviously suffering from depression, but he had some pretty fucked up issues with self-worth and abandonment. "No one's sayin' it ain't gonna happen again."

"I am. I didn't wanna admit anything was wrong with me, and I blamed you for givin' a shit. But you just wanted me not to get trapped in my own fuckin' head again." Ian wished he wasn't part of the reason Mickey was so down on himself, but he couldn't change the past. "Had a reason for comin' over, today."

"Wasn't just to watch me wallow?" Mickey was trying to joke, but Ian could still see the pain in his eyes.

"No. Actually wanted to ask you and Max to move into the house; you're there most nights, anyway, and it's closer to the restaurant." Ian was expecting a "no"; was expecting Mickey to tell him it was far too soon, but he hated the nights his son and boyfriend weren't with him.

"Sure you wanna do that?" Mickey asked, looking down at Max's sleeping face.

"Yeah. I hate you two not bein' there; never wanna wake up without your grumpy ass, again." Ian teased. "Love havin' you and Max at home."

"Okay." Mickey answered softly, still watching Max sleep. "Let's do it." Ian smiled, lacing his fingers with Mickey's where they laid on Max's stomach. He would eventually try to talk Mickey into getting help for his depression, but for now it seemed like enough that he and Max were there.


	10. Home Is Where Your Heart Is Set In Stone

The move went easier than either Mickey or Ian expected; Max seemed to enjoy packing and unpacking, and liked the idea of living with both of his fathers and his dog. "Can I make my room blue?" Max asked a week after he and Mickey had moved in over dinner. "And get Paw Patrol stuff?"

"Yeah, Chipmunk; it's your room." Ian said, cutting the boy's chicken into smaller pieces. "Papa has the weekend off, so you can help me paint Saturday."

"Daddy, why you share with Papa?" Max asked as he popped a bite of chicken into his mouth. "You don't want a room?"

"Because Papa is daddy's boyfriend." Mickey answered, passing the boy his lidded cup filled with Grape juice. "I wanna cuddle with Papa."

"'Cause you love Papa?" Max was full of questions, tonight.

"Yeah, I love Papa." Mickey replied with a smile aimed at Ian. Mickey had been seemingly better since the move, but any time Ian's phone rang he tensed, thinking it would be Fiona or Lip. He had, however, become very outwardly affectionate towards Ian, which the younger man wasn't complaining about. "Why all the questions, Chipmunk?"

"You had your own room, before." Max replied with a shrug, not really answering Mickey's question.

"Because I wasn't dating Papa, before." Mickey informed their son, wiping grape juice off his lips. "So you gonna tell me why you're askin' so many questions?"

"If we live with Papa... are you and Papa getting married?" Mickey wasn't sure how to answer that; sure, he had divorced Svetlana, and he and Ian were doing good, but he wasn't sure he'd ever want to get married, again.

"Maybe someday, but for now things are perfect the way they are." Ian answered for Mickey. He knew Mickey had a horrible experience with his first marriage, but he wanted to marry the love of his life at some point in the future. "Anything else?"

"If you have another baby can it be a boy?" Mickey's eyes widened comically. He'd never thought about having another child-had always assumed it would just be him and Max until Max moved out-and he certainly hadn't thought about it since he and Ian had gotten back together.

"Not really up to us; that'd be up to the baby." Ian said, trying to get Max to drop the subject. Yes, he'd like to have another child-one he could watch grow where he hadn't with Max-but they were in no way ready for that.

 

"Don't stop." Mickey moaned as Ian drilled into him, their bodies plastered close together. Ian didn't plan on it; once he'd built his stamina back up after his five and a half year dry spell, their sex life was better than ever before. Mickey was more vocal-more willing to tell Ian what he wanted-and appreciated fucking face to face where he never had, before. "There! Fuck!" Ian grinned as he nailed Mickey's prostate head on, loving the sounds pouring out of his mouth as he continued to hit just the right spot inside his boyfriend to turn him into a writhing, moaning mess.

"So good, baby." Ian moaned into the other man's ear. "Take it so fuckin' good for me." This was something nineteen year-old Mickey never would have allowed, but twenty-five year-old Mickey was basking in. "Love you so fuckin' much, Mick."

"Close." Mickey moaned, latching his mouth onto Ian's shoulder as the younger man continued to fuck him at a fast, hard pace with his abs providing the perfect amount of friction on his cock to send him over the edge, biting down on Ian's flesh as ropes of cum covered both of their stomachs.

"Shit!" Ian gasped as Mickey tightened around him. He pumped into Mickey three more times before filling the condom he wore and collapsing on the spent brunette. "Fuck that was good." Ian managed as both men tried to catch their breath.

"Always is." Mickey agreed, wrapping his arms around Ian's body once the redhead had pulled out and removed the condom. Mickey loved these moments-moments where he and Ian could just hold one another and enjoy the comfortable silence around them-and would do anything to live in it just a little longer, but sleep was pulling both men under, quickly. "Love you."

"Love you, too." Ian mumbled, leaning up to kiss Mickey goodnight before they drifted off in each other's arms.


	11. Protect Me From My Past

When Mickey got the call from Iggy, he felt sick. "He's out, Mick. Terry's out." Mickey looked towards the living room, seeing Ian lying on the floor as Max tackled him, screaming that he was a monster. "He don't know you still live in the city and he don't know shit about Max." Iggy assured his brother.

"Keep it that way." Mickey ordered softly before hanging up and joining his little family in the living room. He had to find a way to keep Terry from finding out he'd given birth to the beautiful little redheaded boy.

"Daddy! Save Papa!" Max giggled, jumping on Ian's stomach, again. Mickey thought about Max's name as he watched Ian pull the boy down to blow raspberries on his cheek; Tyshchenko was too easily identifiable of a name-given Terry had married a woman with the name-even with Mickey going by Alexander and Max being a very common name, if Terry thought to look for Mickey, he would figure it out. He had to do whatever he could to keep Max safe, even if it meant confusing the poor boy.

"Adopt Max." Mickey said to Ian, watching the older redhead's eyes widen.

"What?" Ian asked, sitting up with Max in his lap.

"Not on his birth certificate and his last name's not Gallagher... I wanna change that; he should have his dad's last name." Mickey said with a shrug, hoping Ian didn't notice his nervousness. Sadly for him, Ian always did.

"The hell is goin' on, Mick? I mean, I'd love for Max to have my last name but it's not a big deal for me." Ian watched Max run off to chase Hyde around the house. "What did Iggy say?"

"Terry's out. Ma's name was Tatia Tyshchenko, so he'd know to look for that last name if he decided to look for me... Don't ever want him to know about Max; Max and Gallagher are both pretty common names so his doped up ass wouldn't think twice about it." Mickey explained. "Max is the only fuckin' thing that matters to me, and if we gotta teach him to introduce himself as "Maxton Krew Gallagher" instead of "Maxton Krew Tyshchenko" then we'll fuckin' do it."

 "You're serious about this." Ian mumbled softly. "Mick..."

"Do this for me, Ian; for Max." Mickey said calmly, moving to sit next to Ian on the floor. "He shoulda been a Gallagher the whole time."

"What about you? You're still goin' by Alexander Tyshchenko... Terry looks for you and he'd have to be a fuckin' idiot to miss that." Ian didn't like the idea of Terry getting near either of his boys; he would tear the fucking world apart to keep Terry away from Max and Mickey. "I have a compromise."

"The hell is there to compromise on?" Mickey asked, raising his eyebrows as he stared at his boyfriend. "Don't got shit to compromise; Max should have your last name, you fuckin' cringe everytime he says his last name, and I wanna fix it."

"Yeah, I hate that his last name ain't Gallagher, but that's 'cause I hate bein' reminded that I pushed you away." Ian admitted, moving to straddle Mickey's thighs and hold his face in his hands. "But I still got somethin' I want before I agree."

"Fine. What?" Mickey asked with a sigh, subconsciously placing his own hands on Ian's thin hips.

"Boss just knows your name's "Mickey", right?" Mickey didn't understand what Ian was getting at, but he nodded. "Told everyone you were goin' by your middle name?" Again, Mickey nodded. "Anyone asks what your first name is, tell 'em Michael."

"That's what you want? Me lyin' about my name, again?" Mickey knew Ian-knew nothing was ever simple with him-and knew this wasn't all Ian wanted. "What else?"

"Marry me." Ian said with conviction. "Anyone asks your name, you're Michael Gallagher. It's common enough that Terry won't fuckin' catch on."

"You seriously askin' me to marry you, right now?" Mickey asked in complete disbelief; was Ian really asking him to get married before they changed Max's last name?

"Not sayin' I won't start adopting Max beforehand-because I will-but I want you safe, too." Ian gently stroked Mickey's left cheek with his thumb, lingering slightly on the scar left from Terry's attack the morning he caught them together; a thin, jagged line curling against the edge of his cheekbone where the skin had been split from a hit he took with the butt of a pistol. "I know you're it for me, Mick, and I'd fuckin' ask you, eventually even if his ass had died in prison like he fuckin' deserved. I love you, baby, and I wanna spend the rest of my fuckin' life with you."

"Yes." Mickey whispered, feeling a lump forming in his throat and tears burning his bright blue eyes. Ian smiled wide, his own breath taking green eyes full of tears as he leaned forward and connected their lips in a sweet kiss. Ian kept smiling as their lips moved perfectly in sync until Max ran over, climbing between them to cuddle up to Mickey. The fathers watched their tired son bury his face in Mickey's neck with matching, loving expressions. Terry may be out, but they would do whatever it takes to keep their son safe; to keep each other safe.


	12. I Can Build My Life Without You

They had done it; they'd gone to the courthouse with Debbie and Carl-who was home from military school for Christmas-as their witnesses. Ian had nearly cried when they signed their marriage certificate and declared married. Debbie  _had_ cried before passing Max to Carl and hugging the newly weds. They had found easier means of changing Max's last name-by means of a simple paternity test to prove Ian was his biological father and paying to have his birth certificate and social security card changed-which meant life was going good for the Gallagher family.

"Door, babe." Mickey mumbled against Ian's bare shoulder.

"Don't wanna move." Ian whined, pulling Mickey closer to him. "Wanna stay in bed with you all day."

"Sorry to break it to ya, but we got a kid so we gotta move at some point." Mickey teased, patting Ian's arm gently. "Go answer the door and I'll make some coffee." Mickey pulled away from his husband-and God damn did that sound fucking weird to him-pecking Ian's lips softly as he sauntered out of their bedroom. Ian sighed before slowly making his way to the front door and opening it without caring that he was dressed in only a pair of black boxer briefs.

"You fuckin' married him?!" Fiona screeched as soon Ian opened the door. "Why the fuck would you do that, Ian?" Fiona demanded, slapping Ian's chest multiple times. "How the fuck could you think that was a good idea?"

"That's enough, Fiona!" Ian snapped, grabbing both of his sister's arms to stop her assault. "I fuckin' told you that you could come back here when you could stop your shit and I meant it!" He dropped the woman's arms and moved further into his house, offering Mickey an apologetic look when he spotted him in the doorway of the kitchen. He fucking despised that his sister was pulling this shit in their home, again. "Leave, Fiona; we got shit to do today." That was a lie; today was both of their days off and Ian had planned to spend the whole day with his husband and son.

"Why are you doin' this, Mickey? You think this is some way to get back at Ian for dumpin' you? Marry him and then leave him high and dry?" Ian was fucking livid; Fiona had no fucking right to talk to his husband like that.

"Fiona!" Fiona turned to Ian with wide eyes. "I asked Mickey to marry me because I love him! This isn't some fuckin' convoluted plot to get back at me for breaking up with him! So get the fuck over yourself and be happy for me-for your  _brother-_ because I just married the love of my life." Ian sighed, moving over to where his husband was standing quietly. "No matter what she says, I don't give a shit; I love you, Mick."

Mickey nodded but stayed silent, leaning in to give Ian a gentle kiss. Ian could see Mickey trying to shut himself off, so he pulled the shorter man into a hug. "Get Max, take him to our room, and cuddle with him for awhile, okay, baby?" Mickey nodded again before disappearing. Ian turned back to his sister with a hard glare. "I don't give a shit if you don't like the choices I've made, you're gonna fuckin' respect my husband!"

"Ian, you two are not some great love story!" Fiona shouted at her younger brother. "He's just gonna leave you!"

"I'm not leavin'." Mickey said, announcing his presence, standing outside Max's door. "And don't fuckin' scream at him when our son is sleepin'." Mickey told Fiona in an eerily calm voice.

"You gonna let him talk to me like that?" Fiona asked Ian harshly.

"Yeah, I am. Go home, Fiona." Ian instructed, moving to Mickey's side.

"Don't fuckin' come cryin' to me when he leaves your ass." Fiona warned before leaving the house and slamming the door behind her for good measure. Ian turned to wrap his arms as tightly around Mickey as he could without hurting the other man. Mickey returned the hug, taking a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the warm, comforting scent of Ian's pale skin.

 

"Max asleep?" Ian asked later that night as Mickey entered their room.

"Out like a fuckin' light." Mickey stated lightly, plopping himself down on the bed beside his husband. "It's weird, man, I can still remember him bein' a newborn; wakin' up every other hour and needin' me for everything." Mickey let out a sigh, his hand drifting to his flat abdomen seemingly on it's own. "Don't want another one right now, but... I don't even know what the fuck I'm sayin'."

"You miss your son bein' little. It happens." Ian reassured, placing his own hand over Mickey's on his stomach. "Wish I could've been there-could have those memories of him as a baby-but we got all the fuckin' time in the world to have another baby; one I'll be able to share those memories with you."

Mickey hummed in agreement as they curled up together to go to sleep, wondering if they ever would have another child together.


	13. He Always Knows

Mandy had-for the most part-stayed away from Ian and Mickey's house since Terry's release out of fear that he would either fallow her or have someone else do it in an attempt to find her older brother. Today, however, she'd managed to get here while staying alert enough to ensure no one had fallowed her to her brother and brother-in-law's house. "What's up, Mands?" Ian asked as he opened the door, balancing Max on his hip. Mandy marched in, making sure the door was closed before she spoke.

"Terry knows Mick's still in Chicago." Ian sat Max down as soon as Mandy said this, looking down at the boy with wide eyes.

"Max, go tell Daddy Papa and Aunt Mandy need to talk to him. Okay, baby boy?" Max nodded wordlessly and ran towards Mickey and Ian's bedroom. "How the fuck did he find out?" Ian whispered to Mandy once Max was out of earshot.

"I don't know, Ian, I swear." Mandy replied with tears and mascara streaking her beautiful pale face. "He said he'd find him, though... he'll kill Max if he finds out where he came from."

"He won't." Mickey assured his younger sister as he walked out of his bedroom, closing the door so Max wouldn't hear their conversation. "He can fuckin' torture me and I won't tell him shit about my son."

"You think he really wouldn't do that shit to you? Max needs you, Mick." Ian said as he started to pace the length of the living room. "I just got you back; I don't wanna lose you again because you're psychotic, homophobic prick of a father is out of fuckin' jail and on a war path." 

"I'd rather it be me than you or Max." Mickey said plainly. "He's still a fuckin' baby and I'm not gonna let him hurt you ever again."

"And what about you, Mick? You really wanna miss out on your little boy's whole life?" Mandy asked through a hiccuped sob. "You're all he knew for four years!" 

"He's got Ian... he's a good dad, and Max loves him." Mickey wiped his eyes and sniffed defiantly against tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "Already said I'd do whatever I fuckin' had to do to protect my family."

"And dyin' is the best way to do that?!" Mandy yelled through tears. "If you'd do anything to protect us why the hell wouldn't we do the same for you?" Mandy moved closer to Mickey, repeatedly punching his arms and chest. "We love your stupid ass and you're just gonna fucking leave us?!" Ian tried to pull his sister-in-law off his husband, but was having a hard time as his own sobs racked his tall, muscular body.

"Mandy, stop." Mickey calmly ordered his sister to no avail. "Mandy!" This time she stopped, falling back into Ian's arms. "I'm not sayin' I'm gonna die. But if it came down to me or Max and Ian? Yeah. I'd fuckin' do it, 'cause I love them enough to take a fuckin' bullet for them."

"Mick, baby, stop." Ian begged, taking Mickey's left hand in his own. "We'll get rid of him together; I'm not lettin' you go through his shit, again." Mickey could still picture the day Terry caught Ian fucking him in the living room of the Milkovich house; could still see Terry tackling Ian onto a couch, fist flying at that innocent-looking face with his other hand wrapped tight around Ian's throat. He could still remember thinking he had to save the boy he loved from the man who had abused him physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Mickey still woke up some nights feeling the pain inflicted by his father's cruel, homophobic words and the butt of his pistol being smacked against his temple. He could still see Ian's heartbroken face from the moment Svetlana crawled into his lap-blood running down his chest, face bruised and bloodied, and a long, thin rivet of blood running down his pale chest-to rape him at gun point. That day was easily the most painful of his life, and lead to several of the biggest struggles in his relationship with Ian. Mickey placed his free hand on his sister's shoulder and allowed his husband and sister to hold him close.

"Papa, why you cryin'? Did you get a boo-boo?" Max asked, stepping out of Mickey and Ian's bedroom to hug his father's leg. "Daddy, kiss papa's boo-boo and make it all better!" He ordered Mickey.

"Yeah, Daddy." Ian agreed, smiling through fresh tears. "Kiss it better." Mickey rolled his eyes, scoffing out an amused chuckle before kissing Ian's tear-drenched lips. "Fucker touches you and I'll end him." Ian whispered as a promise against Mickey's soft, full lips.

 

"Not sure why you got me followin' your daughter, Milkovich." The man sitting on the Milkovich couch beside Terry said. "Girl ain't went no where besides work all fuckin' month."

"She knows where that fuckin' faggot is." Terry sneered, taking a drink of the beer in his hand. "Just a matter of time."

"That's another thing, man; Mikhailo Milkovich disappeared off the face of the fuckin' earth six years ago." He informed Terry. "Think the kid died."

"He's alive." Terry said calmly. "Overheard two of Frank Gallagher's brats talkin' about him. Got a kid, now." Iggy froze in place in the hallway, just out of sight to listen to Terry. He had to find a way to warn Mickey that Terry knew about Max. "Gonna get what's comin' to him."

"You're gonna kill a kid? That's fucked up even for you; I don't want no part of that shit." The man said nervously. "I got two of my own, I ain't killin' someone's kid. You asked me to watch your girl and find your boy, well I did my fuckin' part. I'm out, Milkovich." Iggy heard the door slam fallowed by Terry howling in laughter. Terry really did plan on hurting-possibly killing-his own grandson. Iggy had to fucking stop this before Mickey, Mandy, Max, or Ian got hurt.


	14. Heartfelt Lies

Ian had never felt so betrayed in his life as he had when Iggy had told them Terry found out about Mickey staying in Chicago from two of his siblings talking about him and Max. He marched into the Gallagher house-ignoring Mickey and Mandy's pleas for him to stay out of the Southside with Terry looking for Mickey-and slammed the door behind him. "Hi, Uncle Ian!" Franny greeted from her spot on the couch next to Liam, who was completely absorbed in his cellphone.

"Hi, Franny. Are Uncle Lip and Auntie Fi here?" He knew how to talk to children-he had a child only a month older at home, after all-and knew Franny would be frightened if he started yelling.

"Outside with mommy." Franny replied, turning back to the obnoxiously bright cartoon on the TV. Ian nodded, walking to the back door.

"Lip, Fiona, we gotta talk." Ian told his siblings, giving Debbie a quick hug in greeting. "Take Liam and Franny upstairs so I can talk to these two?" Debbie gave Ian a very confused look.

"What'd they do?" She asked cautiously, turning to look at Fiona and Lip as all three of them entered the house, closing the door behind them.

"Inadvertently let Terry Fuckin' Milkovich know Mickey was still in Chicago and that we have a son, together." Ian said, glaring at his two eldest siblings who both looked a little sheepish. "Take Franny and Liam upstairs, Debs; not doin' this shit in front of your daughter 'cause I respect you," Lip and Fiona both looked like they Ian had slapped them. "and yelling still fucks Liam up." Again, Fiona looked like she'd been hit. They all avoided talking about the coke incident, but Ian was pissed; he'd worry about feeling guilty later.

Debbie nodded, walking into the living room to usher Liam and Franny up the stairs. "Wanna explain to me why the fuck you were talkin' about my husband and son in the fuckin' Southside knowin' Terry was out of prison?" Ian asked in a low growl once Debbie had the two youngest Gallagher's-in the house, at least-out of sight.

"Ian, I had no idea he was out." Lip swore. Ian actually believed him, because he looked genuinely apologetic. "If I did I sure as fuck wouldn't've said shit." Lip walked over to his jacket, hanging off the back of a chair and pulled out a small package. "Debs told me Max's birthday was the twelfth." Ian nodded and Lip handed him the package. "Was gonna bring it by today since it got here after his birthday."

"You got Max a birthday present?" Ian was shocked to say the least; the last time he'd spoken to Lip he'd made it clear he didn't approve of Ian restarting his relationship with Mickey.

"He's my nephew, and you're my little brother; whether or not I like Mickey, he's a big part of both of your lives." Ian hugged his older brother. "I swear I had no idea Terry was out, man." Lip said honestly, hugging Ian back.

"Fiona?" Ian looked straight at his sister-once he pulled away from Lip-who hadn't said anything since Lip had started to speak.

"I knew he was out." Fiona reluctantly admitted. "But I didn't know he'd be at the Alibi."

"How the fuck could you not think he would be? Bastard spends as much time at that fuckin' bar as Frank does!" Ian roared. "Did you want the fucker to come after my family, Fiona?" Ian was hurt; Fiona had essentially been his mother since he was old enough to remember, and she had done something this horrible to him-to Mickey and Max-seemingly without feeling guilty.

"No. I don't want anything to happen to you, sweetface!" Fiona swore, tears filling her big brown eyes.

"Then what?" Ian knew he was shouting far too loud to keep Franny and Liam from at least hearing his voice on the second floor, even if they couldn't make out the words. "Why the hell would you do this to me?"

"I thought he'd leave." At this point even Lip looked pissed off.

"You wanted my fucking husband to leave me?" Ian's voice was nothing but a whisper now; could you blame him? He was completely crushed.

"Ian, he's all wrong for you!" Fiona tried to reason.

"Why the fuck do you keep sayin' shit like that? The fuck do you have against him?" Ian asked Fiona seriously.

"You're too young to be married with a kid, Ian." Fiona was-again-trying to reason, but it only served to break Ian's heart; he was beginning to see Fiona wouldn't grow to love his husband and son as much as Franny, Liam, Carl, Debbie, and possibly even Lip.

"I was young when Max was born, yeah, but I don't fuckin' regret my son bein' here... I'm so fuckin' happy Mick didn't think about an abortion, 'cause Max is the only thing I ever managed to get right." Ian wasn't sure how-with how shattered his heart was-he wasn't crying, but he was glad he was staying strong. "If anything happens to Mickey or Max, you better never fuckin' come near me, again." He warned his older sister before turning back to Lip and handing the present he'd bought for Max back to him. "You should give this to him, yourself; meet your nephew properly."

"Mind givin' me a ride to your place?" Lip asked, turning to Fiona. "I'm not losin' my brother because Mickey isn't my favorite person in the world. And I'm gonna be there for my nephew." Lip fallowed Ian out of the house, prepared to apologize for his part in Terry finding out Mickey was still in the city and trying to form a better relationship with his brother-in-law.

 

"Uncle Lip?" Max asked as he climbed onto the couch next to Lip with the LeapPad tablet his new favorite uncle had gotten him; Lip was happy to find out that Max liked playing any game Ian or Mickey would download for him and had a slight obsession with technology.

"Yeah, Pipsqueak?" Lip asked, watching Max play the silly Avenger's spelling game he had downloaded for the boy.

"Why is Papa so sad?" Max was a very perceptive child, Lip had quickly discovered, but Ian had tried to act as normal as possible around the five-year-old boy.

"He's just havin' a bad day." Lip reassured his nephew. Max reminded Lip so much of Ian that he couldn't help falling in love with the sweet little redheaded boy.

"He need a hug?" Max asked sweetly.

"Know what, baby boy, Papa does." Ian called out as he walked out of the bathroom. Max jumped up, holding his arms out for his father to hug him.

"Ian's his hero." Mickey said, plopping onto the couch next to Lip. "I don't blame you; didn't fuckin' know Terry was out."

"Thanks." Lip knew shit would end badly, but he would help his brother and brother-in-law any way he could. Even if it killed him.


	15. You Are My One And Only

                    Five Years Ago

Every fucking inch of Mickey's body hurt; he had went into labor-completely alone-and had to call an ambulance to get him to the hospital to avoid giving birth to his son in his shitty studio apartment with no medical professionals anywhere in sight. The one fucking EMT kept asking Mickey why he didn't call the father until Mickey lost it. "Don't fuckin' know who the father is!" It was complete bullshit-he knew for a fact his baby belonged to Ian-but he could tell by the way the older woman was looking at him-the way she had looked at his apartment-that this was obviously what she thought the case was.

"Anyone I can call for you, Alexander?" The other woman-Sue, she had introduced herself as-asked him once they got him into the hospital. "It's not fair you gotta be here alone 'cause the father ain't in the picture." Mickey liked this one; she understood why he wasn't calling Ian. Mickey took the pen she held out and wrote Mandy's number-having left his phone at his apartment-on her forearm.

"She's my sister." Mickey croaked as a contraction hit him.

"I'll call her for ya, sweetie." Sue promised before Mickey was wheeled into a room. He knew Mandy would take hours to get here from Indianapolis, he just hoped she'd be here before he was taken to the delivery room so he wasn't alone as he gave birth to his child.

 

Mickey had no one to hold his hand as he pushed, so a nurse in the delivery room-a woman who must have been in her mid-fifties with kind hazel eyes, olive skin, and short cropped salt-and-pepper hair-approached the side of the bed, holding out a thin, slightly wrinkled hand. "Sweetie, I had my first one alone and was scared to death. Squeeze as hard as you want." Mickey was thankful for the woman-"Call me Kat, sweetie"-staying by his side through contractions and pushes. "You did great, sweetie." Kat complimented as she laid his baby boy on his chest.

"Hi there, Chipmunk." Mickey said through a choked sob; he could already see so much of Ian in him. "You're fuckin' beautiful." Mickey kissed the boy's downy red hair. "I love you so much."

When his son was taken so he could have his measurements taken and be cleaned up, Mickey was afraid he wouldn't get to see him, again. "You're gonna hate people takin' him away for months, sweetie." Kat offered, using a paper towel to wipe sweat off of Mickey's face. "I was like that with my Max for months."

"Max?" Mickey liked the name; it was simple and fucking cute.

"My oldest-I got five of 'em-but Maxwell was my first." Kat said with a smile. "You got a name for that little sweetie, yet?" She asked Mickey with genuine curiosity.

"Like Krew, but don't think that's his name... Maybe his middle name." Mickey said with a shrug. "I like Max, actually. Think "Maxwell" sounds too big for him, though."

"There's other full names for "Max"; my Max sent me a picture once of a list of names he found online-joked that I gave him the worst full name for "Max"-and I saw "Maxton" on the list. Thought it was kinda cute." Kat offered.

"Maxton Krew Gallagher." Mickey tested the name on his tongue. He liked it; though it fit the angelic-looking redheaded baby boy currently crying at the other side of the room. That sound, Mickey fucking  _hated._

"So you do know who his daddy is." Kat mused. "You told the one medic you didn't know." Mickey didn't know Kat had heard that.

"He ain't in the picture; he's Bipolar and broke up with me 'cause I wanted to fuckin' help him get used to the meds and shit... didn't wanna take 'em." Mickey didn't know why he was telling her this-assumed it was because he was exhausted, emotional, and wished Ian was here with him-but it felt good to get it all off his chest. "Stole my ex-wife's son, cheated on me, made a porno bareback, fucked off to the army at sixteen, got a job as a stripper after deserting, did any fuckin' drug he could get his damn hands on, and then, one mornin' he wouldn't get outta bed. I took care of him, and then he didn't want me, anymore. I left, 'cause I didn't wanna put our baby through that."

"Does he know you were pregnant when you left?" Kat asked with sad eyes. Mickey really liked this woman-she reminded him of his mother-and she was showing him genuine concern.

"Wrote him a letter before I left." Mickey answered quietly.

"Honey, it's not really my place, but you remind me of my youngest son, Jason, so I'm gonna ask as one parent to another; are you plannin' on lettin' him see your son?" Mickey shook his head sadly. "Eventually, he's gonna ask why his last name is different than yours when it's just the two of you. I know, 'cause Max did." Kat admitted. "His daddy wasn't a good guy, but I don't regret my boy. My advice? If he ain't gonna be around, give your boy your last name."

"Maxton Krew Tyshchenko... it sounds okay, right?" Mickey hoped it did, because he loved the name for his son, and she was right; he didn't want to put Max through that.

"It sounds lovely." Kat assured him.

 

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here!" Mandy whisper/yelled as she entered his hospital room about five minutes after he and Max were settled in. "Oh my goodness! He's perfect, Mick!" She gushed once she spotted the sleeping infant in Mickey's arms.

"Thanks." Mickey replied without looking away from his son.

"He got a name, yet?" Mandy asked, stroking Max's soft cheek with her thumb.

"Maxton Krew Tyshchenko; Max for short." Mickey answered.

"It's perfect, Mick," Mandy side-hugged Mickey as gently as she could-mindful that he'd just given birth-before kissing Max's forehead. "hi, Max; I'm your Aunt Mandy. We are all gonna love the shit outta your cute little face."

"Aunt Mandy's right, Chipmunk; daddy's never gonna let anyone hurt you." Mickey swore. "My daddy was a piece of shit, but daddy's gonna do his best to be a good daddy for you." Mickey kissed his son's nose-the nose that looks so much like his own-and chuckled at the soft, snuffling sounds he made in his sleep. "Daddy loves you so much, Max." Once again, Mickey wished Ian was here to see their son, but he knew Ian wouldn't be a part of Max's life. He didn't even realize he was crying until Mandy was holding him and Max started whimpering in his arms.

Mickey would make up for Ian not being there; he'd love Max enough for both parents and give his boy everything. He was also going to make up for his own shitty childhood by encouraging Max-making sure Max knew he never had to be afraid of his father-and never laying a hand on his child the way his father had; wouldn't use Max as a punching bag like Terry did with his children. He would be a good fucking father, even if just to prove that Mickey fucking Milkovich had a heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give a little glimpse of Mickey's first moments with Max, and also a little bit of background on Max's name. As always, leave comments to let me know what you think about the story so far or just this chapter, it's self. Much love!


	16. Until The End-Part One

                     Present Day

Ian asked Kev to keep an eye out for Terry Milkovich, and to call him when he finally returned to the Alibi. He was ready to face Terry-to keep him as far away from Mickey and Max as possible-and find someway to get him locked up again to protect his family. Mickey had started keeping Max with him as much as possible, and only letting Debbie or Mandy babysit the boy when both he and Ian were working. He said he didn't know if Terry knew where they lived, and Ian understood; he wanted their son safe just as much as his husband did. "Hello?" Ian groggily answered his phone; having a job with regular hours and a child who was always asleep by seven-thirty meant Ian was already asleep for hours before Kev decided to call him at three-thirty in the morning.

"Hey man, Frank's too drunk to get himself home." Kev said loudly. He and Ian had decided on this code to keep the Milkovich Patriarch from becoming suspicious if two of the Gallagher boys walked into the bar. "Can you come get his ass outta here before he pisses on the floor again?"

"Gonna call Lip. We'll be there in twenty minutes." Ian replied, climbing out of Mickey's arms and pulling some clothes on. "Thanks, Kev; owe ya one, man." He hung up the phone, made his way to Max's room, and scooped the sleeping boy up to put him in bed with Mickey; no use taking risks right now.

"Papa?" Max sleeping mumbled into Ian's pale neck. "Where are we goin'?"

"Papa and Uncle Lip gotta go somewhere so Papa's gonna take to cuddle with Daddy so he don't get lonely." Ian whispered, carrying the boy to lay him down in bed next to Mickey, who was sitting up and taking a drag off the electric cigarette-the men didn't smoke in the house or around their son because he was allergic to cigarette smoke, so they used electric cigarettes with flavors that smelled like fruits, coffee, or Chai tea so the smell and smoke didn't effect Max-he kept in his nightstand drawer. 

"Don't do this, Ian." Mickey said quietly, patting Max's back gently as he cuddled up to Ian's pillow to go back to sleep. "He's beat the shit outta you more than once." He wasn't trying to embarrass Ian, but he couldn't leave Max alone to go with Ian and help protect his husband.

"Mick... baby, I got you hurt enough by the asshole as is; not gonna do it again." Ian leaned over, kissing his husband's lips sweetly. "I love you, and I'm gonna be fine; I got Lip, Kev, and the regulars at the Alibi on my side. I'll come home as soon as Terry's ass is either in a fuckin' body bag or a police car." Ian straightened up, moving to the door as Max sniffed softly in his sleep.

"I'm pregnant." Mickey blurted out; he wasn't lying-he had found out when he had to go to the doctor last week in an attempt to get back on birth control-and was hoping it would change Ian's mind. "Was gonna tell you Saturday."

"Are you serious?" Ian knew they weren't exactly great at remembering condoms-part of the reason Mickey had told Ian he was going to go back on birth control until they were ready for another child-but he hadn't actually thought Mickey would get pregnant less than a month into their marriage. "You're pregnant?" Mickey nodded. Ian was even more determined now than ever to keep Terry away; he would fucking kill Terry if he came near his husband, their son, and their unborn child.

"Thought tellin' you Saturday would be a pretty good Christmas present." Mickey said shyly. "Ian, I can't take care of two kids alone."

"Hey," Ian moved back to Mickey's side and looked into those crystal-clear blue eyes. "I'm not leavin' you and our babies; I'm makin' sure that bastard never comes around our kids." Ian caressed Mickey's bare stomach, feeling a soft smile on his face; he was going to see Mickey's stomach grow, feel their baby kick, hold Mickey's hand when their child was born, he'd see first steps, and hear first words. This was everything he had missed with Max, and now he was getting another chance. "I love you, and I'll be home before you know it."

 

"Mickey's pregnant." Ian told his brother as they drove towards the bar.

"Shit, man. That's awesome; gonna get to see the shit you missed with Pipsqueak." Lip had started loving the roll of Uncle to Max, and loved spending time with the boy, telling him stories about the robot he built when he was in high school. "You excited?"

"Yeah." Ian couldn't fight the smile on his face. "We weren't expectin' it, right now, but I'm happy we're havin' another kid."

"Gonna need a bigger place with a second kid comin' into the picture." Lip commented. "Thinkin' about leavin' the city?"

"Hadn't thought about it... Might be nice to move a little further out; have a big yard for Max and the baby to play in, maybe get another dog for Hyde to play with." Ian liked the idea of living a little outside city limits with his family. "Might look into it."

"You sure you wanna do this, Ian? Terry's a dangerous fuckin' dude." Lip didn't want his brother missing out on watching his children grow up because their grandfather didn't like that they had gay parents. "If shit goes south, I want you to get outta here; those kids need you."

"Not leavin' until I know Terry won't have a chance in hell at gettin' out before his ass dies." Ian swore. "Mickey deserves to live his life without lookin' over his shoulder constantly." Ian wanted Mickey to be able to play outside with the kids without being afraid of someone coming after them. "I'm gonna do anything to keep them safe."

Ian took a deep breath as they pulled up to the bar, hoping no one he cared about got hurt by trying to help him deal with Terry. "Let's get this over with." Ian sighed, climbing out of his car and walking into the bar with Lip close behind him. "Terry Milkovich!" Ian yelled as soon as he was through the door, causing everyone-Terry included-to turn and stare at him. It was now or never, and Ian wanted to just get this shit over with so he could get home to his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a smoker and I have an electric cigarette with Chai tea flavored cartridges. They taste and smell fucking awesome. Leave comments! Much love!


	17. Until The End-Part Two

Once Terry's eyes met Ian's, Ian knew this wasn't going to be as easy as he promised Mickey; not that he actually believed it would, he was just trying to put his pregnant husband at ease. "Fuckin' faggot!" Terry roared, launching his body at the muscular redhead and taking him to the floor before Ian could react. Ian quickly recovered, rolling them over, punching Terry over and over across the face with so much pent up rage it actually shocked the younger man. Ian could hear fights breaking out all across the bar as Terry's "friends" fought against Ian's family; because fuck it, these men were  _all_ his family.

"This," Ian delivered a knee to Terry's chest. "is," A swift punch to the side of his piece of shit father-in-law's head. "for," A punch to the older man's nose, causing a sickening crunch to be heard; he'd broken his nose, if the blood and disgusting angle his nose had taken on was anything to go by. "Mickey!" He delivered a punch to Terry's sternum. "You piece of shit! He's your fuckin' son!"

Terry flipped them over, punching Ian in the ribs several times. "No fuckin' son of mine is gonna be a fuckin' AIDs monkey!" The punches moved to Ian's face as Terry used his left hand to squeeze Ian's throat, cutting off his air. "Boy had potential. You fuckin' ruined him!" Ian clawed at Terry's hand, trying to regain his ability to breathe as his vision began to blur. "Gonna fuckin' kill the bastard; little brat you fucked into him, too!" Terry fell with a cracking sound, causing Ian to grasp for breath as Terry's hand loosened.

Ian looked up once his vision cleared only to see Frank with a broken chair in his hand. "Didn't know I had another grandchild." Frank mumbled, trying to help Ian stand, only for the younger man to gasp.

"Think he broke my ribs." Ian groaned, slowly fishing his cellphone out of his pocket, glad he had sprung on the Gorilla glass screen and protective cover. "Call 911, tell 'em Terry started a bar fight and we need medical assistance... then call Mick and ask him to meet me at the hospital; not gonna be able to drive like this." Ian's voice was scratchy as he spoke from the hand that had been around his throat just moments before.

"Passcode?" Frank asked as he turned the screen on.

"Twelve-twelve." Ian replied, feeling drowsy. "Don't let me sleep, dad." Ian begged as his eyes drooping. "I don't wanna die."

"Hey, you're gonna be okay, son." Frank soothed, sitting on the ground next to Ian as Kev, Tommy, Kermit, and Lip threw Terry's asshole accomplices out of the bar. "We'll get you help." Ian felt his eyes close as his head rested on Frank's leg as his father-step-father, but what the fuck had Clayton ever done for him?-talked to the 911 operator, only hearing "My son needs help fast" as he passed out.

 

Mickey drearily woke up as his phone rang from his nightstand. "Hello?" He answered, not bothering to check the caller ID.

_"Mickey?"_ Frank asked in a clearly distressed voice.

"Frank? How the hell did you get my number?" Mickey asked, moving his phone to see the man was calling from Ian's phone-a picture of his husband and son smiling with silly hats on Max's fifth birthday on the screen-instead of an unknown number. "How'd you get Ian's phone? Where is he?" Mickey was panicking, now.

_"Took a few bad hits, he asked me to call you and have you meet him at the hospital."_ Frank explained, before a ruffling sound filled the phone, fallowed by him telling someone to wake up.  _"He'll be okay, Mick. Just get to the hospital. They'll take him to Mercy."_

"Yeah. Thanks, Frank." Mickey replied, hanging up before throwing on a long sleeved t-shirt and sweats before scooping Max up. "Come on, Chipmunk; we gotta go see Papa." Max nodded, but didn't open his eyes. Mickey was terrified something horrible had happened to his beloved husband, but he had to get to his side; no matter how afraid he was. He put Max's shoes and coat on him before sliding his own on and rushing out to his car with Max in his arms and driving to the hospital once he'd made sure Max was buckled into his booster seat.

 

"Ian Gallagher?" Mickey asked the triage nurse, adjusting a sleeping Max on his hip. 

"Relationship to the patient?" The woman asked, looking at Max quickly.

"Husband." Mickey replied.

"Mick, I got him." Lip said, holding out his heavily bruised arms to take a sleeping Max.

"You okay?" Mickey asked, seeing the dried blood on his face and bruises covering every inch of exposed skin.

"Better than Terry; Frank knocked him the fuck out with a chair to get him off Ian." Lip sounded proud of his father. "Doctor'll be out in a minute to take you back, we told him you should be in there with him." Mickey nodded, passing Max to his uncle and handing Debbie-who was now at Lip's side-his backpack.

"His Spiderman blanket Mandy got him and the green and blue teddy bear you and Franny got him are in there; they help him sleep, so if he wake up, give him those." Debbie nodded, slinging the tiny backpack over her shoulder as the doctor took Mickey back to Ian's room.

 

"You look like shit, man." Mickey commented when he saw Ian lying in the bed.

"Three broken ribs, concussion, and some minor damage to my throat." Ian replied with a wry smile. "Max here?"

"Sleepin' in the waiting room with Lip and Debs." Mickey took a seat at Ian's side. "The hell happened?"

"Was actually gonna try to talk to him, at first... when he saw me, he jumped me. I got him pretty good, but Terry got the upper hand after a minute. If it wasn't for Frank he'd of knocked me out." Ian wasn't going to say he may have possibly died, but he knew Mickey was thinking it after seeing the hand-shaped bruises on Ian's throat.

"Ian, you can't do shit like that, again." Mickey sighed, brushing strands of red hair away from his eyes. "You got two kids who need you."

"I know, baby. But I wasn't gonna let anythin' happen to you, Max, or the baby." Ian whispered, taking Mickey's hand in his own. "You know how far along you are?"

"Almost three months." Mickey replied softly. "Should know what we're havin' soon." Ian was actually shocked; that puts the conception around the first time they had sex after getting back together. "Think we're gonna have another boy or a girl this time?"

"Not sure... might be nice for Max to have a baby brother." Ian replied, hoping they'd have another boy with Mickey's big blue eyes. "What about you?" Ian asked, running his thumb over Mickey's tattooed knuckles.

"Kinda want a little girl." Mickey admitted quietly. "Max would be a good big brother to a little sister; watch her back."

"She'd be beautiful." Ian whispered, lifting Mickey's hand to kiss it. "Just like her daddy."

"Fuck off." Mickey laughed, softly. "I'm so sorry he did this to you."

"I'm okay, baby. I promise." Ian swore to his husband. "He's gonna go away for a pretty long fuckin' time; Lip was in here for a minute and said all the regulars told the cops Terry tried to kill me-attacked me for no reason-and the injuries back up the story. He'll be gone for at least fifteen years, probably more since he broke probation." Mickey let out a sigh of relief. "We're free, baby."

Mickey knew this was a horrible way to see his husband, but Terry was gone, and they could raise their children without worry. "Think we should move a little outta the city; get a bigger place with a nice yard. Maybe get Max and the baby another dog." Ian said shyly. He wasn't sure Mickey would like this idea, but he really did want his children growing up in a smaller area, away from all of the dangers and crime they had grown up around themselves.

"Sounds nice." Mickey whispered, scratching slightly at Ian's scalp with his free hand. Mickey sat with Ian for awhile until Ian asked him to bring Max in so he could see his son and to ask Lip and Debbie to go pick up his car and drop it off at the house. Mickey agreed, walking out of the room to fallow Ian's wishes.


	18. Help Me Make A Choice!

So, if you've read this story to this point, you know Mickey and Ian are having another child. So, I'll be doing a poll to help me decide on gender, appearance, and name.

 Female Names:

  1. Harlow Rue
  2. Alessia Reaghan
  3. Brynn Roux



Male Names:

  1. Wyatt Calder
  2. Cole Rhodes
  3. Dawson Foley



Unisex Names:

  1. Brycen Parker
  2. Ridley Sawyer
  3. Blakely Carter



Baby Girl Appearance:

  1. Mickey: hair, eyes, lips. Ian: nose, freckles, ears.
  2. Mickey: nose, dimples, lips. Ian: hair, eyes, freckles
  3. Mickey: eyes, ears, dimples. Ian: hair, nose, lips



Baby Boy Appearance:

  1. Mickey: hair, dimples, nose. Ian: eyes, lips, freckles.
  2. Mickey: eyes, lips, dimples. Ian: hair, freckles, nose.
  3. Mickey: hair, eyes, nose. Ian: lips, ears, chin.



Cast your votes and at the end of the next chapter I'll let you guys know what won! Much love!


	19. You Can't Be Too Careful, Anymore

Ian's ribs being broken had left him laid up at home all day-causing the usually active redhead to go a little stir crazy-sending Mickey home listings he'd found online in nearby towns. He had his heart set on a beautiful tri-level in Dolton with a nice yard, dark hardwood floors through out, an open floor plan on the main floor, a gorgeous modern kitchen, barn doors to the den with a cozy fireplace and beamed ceilings, and enough space for their growing family. The house actually didn't cost much more than where they were living now, and was a much nicer house if Ian was being honest.

_Ian: What do you think of the one in Dolton I sent you?_

_Mick <3: It's amazing, babe, but can we afford it?_

_Ian: Payments would be about $100 more a month. We'll be fine; thirty minute drive back to Chicago, good schools, safe neighborhood... it's exactly what we're looking for, baby._

_Mick <3: Think we'd be able to get moved before I'm the size of a fuckin house?_

Ian laughed-which caused his ribs to burn in protest-at his adorable husband's text. Mickey was only three months along, and wasn't even showing yet.

_Ian: I'm sure we can._

_Mick <3: Call a realtor. We'll go check it out this weekend. Want me to pick up dinner after I get Max from school?_

_Ian: Yeah, that sounds good. Can't wait to go see our new house!_

_Mick <3: I married a fuckin dork._

_Ian: Love you too, sweetie! :-*_

_Mick <3: Yeah yeah, love you. See you in twenty._

_Ian: Drive safe._

 

"We're havin' a girl... I can feel it as fuckin' weird as that sounds." Mickey said as they cuddled-as much as they could with Ian's busted ribs-on the couch while Max laid in the floor watching "The Good Dinosaur" after dinner.

"You think?" Ian asked quietly, stroking Mickey's stomach with the pad of his thumb. As much as he'd like for Max to have a little brother, he'd love to have a daughter to spoil.

"Yeah. Feels different than it did with Max." Mickey replied. "Might just be 'cause this time I got you here with me, but... I don't know. Feels completely different."

"Got a name in mind?" Ian asked, trying not to picture Mickey alone as he went through this the first time.

"Like Rue." Mickey muttered, sliding his hand over Ian's on his still rather flat stomach. "Mandy made me watch those fuckin' Hunger Games movies and I liked it. Not for her first name, though."

"So her middle name's Rue... what about Harlow for her first name? Always thought it was a cute name." Ian offered. He loved getting to talk baby names with his husband; getting to be a part of his child's life before they were even born.

"Harlow Rue Gallagher... I like it." Mickey said with a smile. "Guess she's got a name."

"Gonna be sad if we find out we're havin' another boy." Ian teased lightly.

"Would be if she wasn't a girl." Mickey shot right back.

"Daddy, papa, when the baby gets here are you still gonna love me?" Max asked, turning his head to look at his fathers.

"Come 'ere, Chipmunk." Mickey said, holding out his hand to help Max crawl into his lap. "No matter what, you're our first baby and we're always gonna love you, Max." Mickey told the boy honestly.

"Daddy's right, baby boy; we can love you and your baby sister both. We'll never stop lovin' our Chipmunk." Ian said, moving his hand from Mickey's stomach to Max's back. "You're always gonna be our baby boy."

"Love you, Daddy." Max placed a kiss on Mickey's cheek. "Love you, Papa." He kissed Ian's cheek now. Max climbed down slowly, lifting Mickey's shirt a little once he was on the floor. "Love you, sissy." He kissed Mickey's stomach, and both parents could have sworn their hearts melted in that moment.

"We love you, too, Max." Ian said, watching his son in awe as he went back to the floor to finish his movie before bed.

 

"Am I a bad dad for not thinkin' about Max worryin' we wouldn't love him once Harlow gets here?" Mickey asked as they curled up in their bed later that night.

"No, baby; don't think anyone would expect that. He's used to havin' us to himself, though, so he was a little confused." Ian reassured softly. "Just gotta show him we don't love him any less."

"Yeah." Mickey said, nodding slightly in agreement. "Glad you're here... don't think I'd be able to deal with this kinda shit with anyone else."

"You ever think about havin' one with any of the other guys?" Ian asked, unsure of whether or not he really wanted an answer.

"Had a fuck buddy for a few months-longest I was with someone since you-but I didn't wanna have a kid with him; he was a complete asshole." Mickey said honestly, tracing the eagle tattoo on Ian's side with his finger tips.

"How so?" Ian asked, wonder what this man could have done that made Mickey so sure he never would have wanted a child with him; Ian had broken him in a way no one else could, and he still gave birth to, kept, and loved Ian's son.

"Told me I was a lousy fuck, said I looked like shit when I took my shirt off... told me once I shoulda got rid of Max so I wouldn't be fat and fuckin' loose." Mickey admitted so quietly Ian barely heard him.

"Baby..." Ian didn't even know what to say; how the hell could anyone say something like that to someone as breathtakingly beautiful as Mickey? "Baby, your body looks fuckin' perfect, and you're so fuckin' amazing in bed." Ian stroked Mickey's back softly, reaching down to squeeze Mickey's ass just slightly. "If it wouldn't kill my God damn ribs I'd fuck that tight little ass right now." Ian moaned low in his throat.

"Full of shit, man." Mickey laughed. "'Course you think I look good; you fuckin' married me."

"I did. And I don't regret for a second 'cause you're so damn handsome, sexy, and just... you're amazing. If we ever run into that small-dicked asswipe point him out to me so I can kick his fuckin' teeth down his throat for hurtin' my baby." Ian sleepily mumbled into Mickey's dark hair. "Love you so much, Mick; you're perfect for me."

"Perfect for me, too, Ian." Mickey mumbled back, closing his cerulean eyes. "Love you." With that, both men fell asleep exactly where they belonged; in the other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The winner is:  
> A baby girl  
> Harlow Rue  
> Mickey's eyes, ears, and dimples and Ian's hair, nose, and lips. Thanks for the votes, guys! Leave comments to let me know what you think of the story. Much love!


	20. We'll Be Alright

Mickey had been worrying about Ian after the fight at the Alibi any time he was away from his husband, like he was now. Mickey was working before his doctor's appointment, but he couldn't get his mind off the redheaded man sitting in their house as a realtor took pictures of the small home their family shared.

_Mick <3: Hey, babe, how's it goin over there?_

_Ian: Pretty good; glad we keep the house clean._

_Mick <3: She think you can make a decent profit on it?_

_Ian: Yeah, actually; both bathrooms were remodeled two years ago, the deck was replaced last year, the driveway was repaved at the same time, and our bedroom was remodeled as soon as I bought it._

_Mick <3: You seriously did all of that?_

_Ian: Hired someone to do the driveway and deck, but our room and the bathrooms I did._

_Mick <3: Is it bad I wanna see you all sweaty and workin with power tools?_

_Ian: Want me to take my shirt off and wear a tool belt for you, baby? ;-)_

_Mick <3: I'm workin, asshole! Don't say shit like that!_

_Ian: Not my fault you think your husband is sexy._

_Mick <3: I want a fuckin divorce._

_Ian: Lol, nope! You're stuck with me, baby! I'll meet you at your app. 3 o'clock, right?_

_Mick <3: Yeah. Is Debs still pickin Max up from school?_

_Ian: Yeah; just texted me to ask if there was anything he couldn't eat cause she was gonna make him and Franny a snack. I told her he won't eat peanut butter but other than that he's fine._

Mickey felt a little better knowing Max would be with his cousin/best friend while his parents got to see his younger sibling in just a few short hours.

 

"I was worse when I was pregnant with Max." Mickey muttered as he scrolled through his instagram feed while they waited for the ultrasound technician to enter the room. Mickey could sense the other man's nerves and assumed it was due to this being the first time he'd see their youngest child. "Freaked the fuck out the first time I got to see him."

"It fuckin' sucks that I wasn't there." Ian said miserably. "And... what if I fuck up, Mick? What if I do somethin' so fuckin' stupid you leave and won't let me see our kids?" Ian wished he hadn't said anything, because he assumed Mickey would take that as a reason to leave.

"Hey," Ian looked up from the floor, meeting Mickey's intoxicating blue eyes. "I'm not goin' anywhere; we're gonna see our baby, go pick up our son, he's gonna tell us about his day, and we're gonna take him to look at the house Saturday. Okay?" Ian nodded as the technician entered and instructed Mickey to lay back and lift his shirt.

"Okay, gentlemen... here's your little one!" The younger man exclaimed as a very human-looking figure came onto the screen. Ian felt his face split into a smile as Mickey squeezed his hand gently; that was their baby. Ian knew he was in love as soon as he looked at the tiny person with it's small fist pressed to the side of it's head. "Do you want to know the gender?" The couple nodded excitedly. "Congratulations, gentlemen, you're having a baby girl!" Ian leaned over, kissing his husband as the Technician wiped Mickey's stomach.

"You were right, baby." Ian whispered softly. "We're havin' a girl."

"We're havin' a girl." Mickey whispered back in awe, looking down at his stomach while Ian answered the technician with affirmation when he asked if they wanted a copy of the picture before the man leaves quietly. "Hi, Harlow." Mickey whispered wetly to his slightly rounded stomach. Ian's hand joined his, and Mickey couldn't help the soft, half laugh half sob that left his mouth; he was fucking happy.


	21. This Is For Us

Ian hated that Mickey was asked to testify in Terry's case; he wanted to keep his husband away from the trial, but he knew this was necessary. "Mister Gallagher, you're Mister Milkovich's son, correct?" The prosecutor asked Mickey as he sat in the witness box.

"Yes." Mickey replied in a professional tone, keeping his eyes on Ian so he didn't freak the fuck out.

"And you're relationship with the victim?" The prosecutor asked.

"He's my husband." Mickey answered, smiling softly at Ian.

"Fuckin' faggot!" Terry roared, trying to jump across the table.

"Defense, control your client!" The judge snapped, seeing the pregnant man in the witness box cover his stomach protectively.

"Mister Gallagher, what was your relationship like with your father growing up?" And there it was; the whole reason Mickey was here.

"He was abusive, forced us to do shit I'd never do now, and he had me raped at gunpoint when he caught me having sex with my boyfriend." Mickey wanted to shut his fucking mouth, but he wanted Terry locked up until he fucking died.

"Did you know your father's view on homosexuality?" The prosecutor asked Mickey, giving him a sympathetic look after he mentioned his rape.

"Yes." Mickey could see Terry wishing he wasn't cuffed to the table and floor so he could attack his son.

"How did that effect you?" Mickey wished he didn't have to answer that question.

"I tried to pretend I was straight and pushed the man I love away." Mickey answered, looking at Ian-who was mouthing 'I love you, baby' to him-for comfort. "I was terrified when I realized I was gay because he taught me it was wrong. He attacked us when he caught us, together-beat me half to death before he had me raped by a woman-and threatened to kill my boyfriend if I didn't marry her." He knew Ian wasn't aware of this, but he saw that the man realized this was why he pushed him away before the wedding.

"Your witness." The prosecutor walked away Terry's attorney walked up.

"You did illegal things, yourself, didn't you?" The defense attorney asked, giving Mickey a cold look.

"When I was younger, yes." Mickey answered honestly. "It was what I knew."

"And what do you do, now?" The defense attorney asked Mickey.

"I manage a restaurant." Mickey answered.

"And you're married to a man. Does he know what happened with your "boyfriend?"" He asked as if Mickey was lying about dating a man at that time.

"He's the same man." Mickey said simply.

"You have another child, correct?" He asked Mickey. "One with your ex-wife."

"You obviously don't understand carrier biology. Our semen is sterile; I couldn't get anyone pregnant if I tried." Mickey answered with his own glare. "The woman I was forced to marry was a prostitute who got pregnant and told Terry it was my baby. Look, Terry is a horrible person-I know that first hand-and he has no redeeming qualities. You've all heard my brother and Terry's buddy testify that he was going to kill my son because I gave birth to him.

"Terry doesn't deserve to be out of prison, and I don't want my son's safety at risk." Mickey said, eyes still locked on his husband.

 

Twenty years; that was how long Terry Milkovich would be locked up. Mickey felt so much better as his family returned to their house-mostly packed and ready to move into their new home-for the night. After Ian had laid a sleeping Max in his bed the couple made their way to their own bedroom for the night. "We're free, baby." Ian sighed, moving to kiss his husband fiercely, thrusting his tongue into the brunette man's mouth and moaning low in his throat as Mickey sucked his tongue. "Fuck, Mick... he's gone." Mickey laughed with tears in his eyes as he looked at his husband.

"He's gone." Mickey whispered, hugging Ian tightly. Ian wrapped one arm around his husband and placed his other hand on his baby bump. "He's not gonna get to Max or Harlow."

"My babies are safe." Ian didn't just mean his kids; he meant his husband just as much. "I love you."

"I love you." Mickey said with a smile. "I love you so fuckin' much." Mickey kissed his husband, again. "Now I want Doritos and a whole lemon." Mickey said as he pulled away.

"I'll get it." Ian laughed, loving his husband's pregnancy cravings. This was their life, and he wouldn't change it for the world.


	22. Welcome To Our Life

The night Mickey went into labor saw Debbie, Lip, and Liam driving thirty minutes to Dolton from Chicago to meet the newest addition to the Gallagher family. "Mandy?" Lip was shocked to say the least; he hadn't seen Mandy Milkovich in nearly seven years, yet she hadn't aged a day.

"I was stayin' the night at Mick and Ian's place. Kinda glad, now." She gestured to Max-who was absorbed in his tablet-sitting in the chair next to her.

"How long have they been back there?" Debbie asked Mandy, moving to sit on the other side of Max with Franny.

"Maybe an hour; when Mick was ready to go down to the delivery room he asked me to call you." Debbie nodded, knowing the actual delivery wouldn't take as much time as if they had shown up at the beginning of his labor pains.

"Thought you said Ian called you?" Lip was confused; how long had Debbie known Mandy was back?

"Actually, I just told you Mickey was in labor." Debbie corrected. "This part doesn't take all that long." 

"Right. Guess we're gonna meet Harlow any minute, now." Lip sighed, flopping down in a chair across from Mandy, Max, Debbie, and Franny.

 

"Fuck!" Mickey whimpered as a contraction hit. "Don't remember this hurtin' so fuckin' bad with Max."

"I'm sorry, baby." Ian said, wishing he could take away his husband's pain. "If I could do it for you I would." He brushed some of the drenched hair away from Mickey's red face with his free hand while Mickey squeezed the other and pushed through the contraction.

"I can see the head, Mister Gallagher." The doctor told Mickey as he flopped back onto the uncomfortable hospital bed.

"I can't fuckin' do this, Ian." Mickey sobbed. "It wasn't this bad last time."

"You can do this; you're the strongest fuckin' person I know." Ian told Mickey. "You're doin' this for Harlow." Mickey squeezed Ian's hand as another contraction hit.

"You're doing great, Mister Gallagher; her head's almost out." The doctor said as Mickey pushed. "The next one is gonna be the big one."

"I'm never doin' this, again." Mickey panted. "This hurts worse than gettin' fuckin' shot."

"I know, baby." Ian soothed. He despised himself for putting Mickey through this; he hated that Mickey was the one suffering to bring their daughter into the world. Ian was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly gasped when Mickey started tightening his grip, again. Mickey started to push again until a sharp cry filled the room.

"Does daddy want to cut the cord?" The doctor asked Ian, holding their daughter in her hands. Ian nodded, shakily moving to snip the tiny infant girl's umbilical cord. The baby was rushed over to Mickey who-even though he was exhausted-held his daughter close to his chest.

"Looks like you." Mickey said softly, staring down at the beautiful redheaded baby in his arms. "She's beautiful."

"She is." Ian agreed, unable to fight the smile on his face. "She's fuckin' perfect." Harlow yawned, showing off the dimples in her chubby cheeks. "Got your dimples." Ian had never been more in love with anyone than he was this little person on his husband's chest, or more in love with Mickey than he was seeing what he had went through to bring their daughter into the world.

 

"She's beautiful." Lip complimented, looking at his niece in his brother's arms.

"Thanks. Shoulda seen her eyes when she was awake; got Mick's eyes." Ian wished his daughter looked more like the beautiful man asleep in his hospital bed, cuddled up to their sleeping son, but he still thought his daughter was perfect. She had Ian's red hair, turned up nose, and mouth, but she had Mickey's bright blue eyes, dimples, and his adorable ears. Debbie, Liam, and Mandy had already left, leaving Mickey, Ian, their children, and Lip in the hospital room.

"She'll come around." Lip said, knowing Ian wished his older sister was here to see his child, but Ian knew Fiona was fucking stubborn.

"Don't need her; I got the family who loves me." Ian said seriously, kissing his daughter's forehead. He missed his sister, but he had more important things to think about than Fiona's problems with Mickey.


	23. What It Means To Me

Ian was tired-all new parents were-but he wasn't complaining. Harlow was-for the most part-a quiet baby and slept pretty well, but Ian and Mickey still had to take turns waking up to feed, change, and comfort their infant daughter. "Hey there, sweetie. Why's my girl so upset?" Ian cooed, rocking his baby girl in his arms. She was dry, so he assumed she must be hungry. "You need a bottle, sweetie?"

"You could've woke me up." Mickey mumbled, stepping into Harlow's bedroom with bed-head and bleary eyes.

"I got her." Ian assured his husband. "Never got to do the late nights with Max."

"Don't mean you gotta do all of 'em with Harlow; you're still workin'." Mickey said, lifting their daughter out of Ian's arms. "Go back to bed, baby." Mickey kissed Ian softly, adjusting Harlow in his arms. Being a carrier meant that Mickey's body produced milk, so Mickey could feed Harlow without going downstairs to fix her a bottle from the milk he had pumped, but Ian still felt bad that Mickey woke up to feed their daughter.

"I can feed her, baby." Ian offered as Mickey took a seat in the rocking chair Iggy had built as a gift for his brother and niece. It was beautiful, and Ian found himself very impressed with the craftsmanship of the chair.

"Ian, you gotta go to work in three hours; go get some sleep. I got her." MIckey ordered gently, holding Harlow to his chest. Ian had always known his husband was beautiful, but seeing him feeding their daughter and looking so content, he was completely captivated by the perfect brunette man. "What?" Mickey asked, glancing up at Ian as Harlow ate.

"You're so amazing." Ian muttered. "Just... God, you're so fuckin' perfect, Mick." Mickey smiled, running his thumb along Harlow's chubby cheek.

"Shut the fuck up and go back to bed. I'll be back down when I get her back to sleep." Ian nodded, stepping over to kiss Mickey and Harlow both on their forehead before walking back downstairs to their bedroom. He checked his phone, seeing a message from Debbie.

_Debs: I know you'll be mad, but I told Fiona Harlow's here and showed her the picture I took of you and her._

_Ian: What'd she say?_

_Debs: She said she looks like you._

_Ian: What else, Debs?_

_Debs: Said that you made your fuckin choice and she didn't give a shit. I'm sorry, Ian._

_Ian: Not your fault, Debs; I'm happy with the choice I made, and I love my family. I have an amazing husband and two beautiful kids, so fuck Fiona._

_Debs: I wish I could help get her to come around; Max and Harlow are beautiful._

_Ian: I know you do, Debs. And thanks; I think they're pretty damn cute._

_Debs: Lol, why the hell are you awake?_

_Ian: Harlow was cryin and I woke up to take care of her, but Mick got up and fed her._

_Debs: Aww, #relationshipgoals_

_Ian: Never say that again, lol._

_Debs: But you guys are so cute!_

_Ian: You act like I don't know that shit! Lol. I gotta try to get some more sleep (Mickey's orders) so I'll talk to you later, Debs._

_Debs: Later, dollface._

 

With Max at school, Ian at work, and Harlow asleep Mickey had some time to clean up the house a little bit. That is, until someone rang the doorbell. He looked over at Harlow-still fast asleep in her bassinet-before going to answer the door. "Fiona?" Mickey had no idea how Fiona Gallagher knew where they lived-considering they had moved a half hour away from Chicago since the last time Ian had spoken to his sister-but she was there, and very clearly drunk off her ass, even though it was barely past noon.

"Things were good before you came back." Fiona slurred, pushing her way into the house. "Ian had his family, a good job, and he was fuckin' stable."

"He tried to kill himself." Mickey shot back, moving to stand next to his sleeping daughter. "How'd you know where we live?"

"When Ian gave Lip the address I found it; kept it for when Ian called cryin' and sayin' you left him." Fiona said with a hard glare. "We had a good thing goin'."

"Ian was miserable, suicidal, and goin' to therapy twice a week to keep him from tryin' to go through with it. Was he fuckin' unhappy." Mickey gritted out, placing a hand on Harlow's stomach to keep himself calm. "You want him stayin' with you to fix your fuckin' mistakes, but Ian's happy, now; he's married and a fuckin' father."

"He was happier with the other guy." Fiona slurred, throwing herself down in the chocolate brown armchair.

"What other guy?" He knew he shouldn't listen to Fiona, but he had always dealt with insecurity and given that he had just given birth it was even worse.

"Dated him while you were gone; they were together for about a year." With Fiona's words Mickey felt a combination of anger, hurt, and nausea because he had fucking believed Ian; he had married him and given him another child, and Ian had lied to him the whole fucking time.


	24. Drowning

Ian was so fucking ready to be home with his husband, daughter, and son. Max had been excitedly babbling the whole way home from school about how all of his friends were jealous that he had a new baby sister,  which had Ian smiling like a moron the whole drive home. "So you were braggin' about Harlow all day?" He teasingly asked his son.

"She's so cute, Papa!" Max exclaimed. "She's so tiny and she's got cute little toes!"

"She is very cute." Ian agreed; both of his children were adorable, and Ian gave all credit for that to Mickey.

"Sissy looks more like you." Max pointed out, looking at one of the pictures he had of his younger sister.

"You think? I think she's got a lot of daddy in her." Ian knew Harlow-on the surface-had more of his features, but on closer inspection she looked a lot like Mickey, as well.

"Yeah, but I look more like Daddy and sissy looks more like you." Max said, still staring at a picture of Harlow.

"Well, let's go see sissy and Daddy." Ian sighed, glad to finally be home. He helped Max out of the car and the two made their way inside. "Mick, we're home!" Ian called out as he walked into the house with Max. He froze when he saw his older sister asleep in the armchair.

"What the hell is Fiona doin' here?" Ian asked when Mickey walked down the stairs with Harlow in his arms, both completely dressed with a diaper bag on his shoulder. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Gonna stay with Mands for a few days." Mickey said, ushering Max upstairs. "Go get your Spongebob backpack, Chipmunk; you got some clothes and your tablet in there." Max furrowed his expressive eyebrows before running up the stairs.

"Why are you goin' to Mandy's?" Ian asked, feeling his throat tighten as he realized what was happening; Mickey was leaving him and taking the kids.

"Fi told me some shit before her ass passed out... said you had a boyfriend for a year when I was gone. I wouldn't give a shit if you hadn't fuckin' lied to me about it. Then I started thinkin', if you lied about that, what else have you been lyin' about for the past year and a fuckin' half?" Mickey looked fucking furious, and Ian felt sick; why would Fiona lie to Mickey about that? Ian hadn't dated anyone when Mickey was gone! He'd spent the whole fucking time looking for the man and their child.

"Mick, I swear I didn't fuckin' lie to you; I spent the whole time you were gone lookin' for you and Max." Ian moved closer to his husband, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Baby, I don't know what all Fiona said, but it's not fuckin' true."

"I need a few days to think about shit." Mickey sighed, turning to watch Max descend the stairs. "Talk to your fuckin' sister when she wakes up." With that, Mickey and their kids were gone and Ian was pissed. He got a glass of ice cold water and dumped it on his sleeping sister.

"What the fuck?!" Fiona exclaimed as she woke up. "Why the fuck would you do that, Ian?" She asked, standing up and pulling her drenched shirt away from her skin.

"Why the fuck would you tell Mickey I had a boyfriend when he was gone?" Ian snapped, slamming the glass in his hand down onto the coffee table. "Are you really so pissed that I'm livin' my own life that you gotta tell my fuckin' husband I lied to him less than a week after he had our daughter?"

"Everything was fine before he came back!" She snapped at her brother.

"If he hadn't come back I would've eventually succeeded in fuckin' killin' myself." Ian said, honestly. "I was miserable without Mickey."

"You got your life together without him." Fiona argued.

"I got my life together  _for_ him!" Ian yelled. "I got my shit together so he'd see it wouldn't be a fuckin' mistake to take me back!"

"You had your family!" Fiona was grasping at straws, but Ian was too pissed to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"I still do! Everyone but your ass loves Mick and the kids!" Ian had tears in his eyes as he spoke; he loved Fiona and she just kept breaking his heart. "Mick doesn't know I fuckin' bailed your ass out right before we moved when you were broke, you know? He'd have told me not to do that when you kept questionin' every choice I make or usin' the fact that I'm Bipolar against me. It won't fuckin' happen, again."

"What the hell does that mean?" Fiona asked, actually having the audacity to look shocked.

"It means you're on your own, Fiona. My husband just fuckin' left because he thinks I've been lyin' to him since we got back together. And why? 'Cause you want me to move back home and pay for shit while you make dumbass decisions." Ian picked up the purple elephant lovey Lip got for Harlow, stroking the soft fur with his finger tips.

"I have as much right as the rest of you do to do something for myself!" Fiona shouted.

"Then do somethin' for yourself and stop askin' me to pay your fuckin' bills when you're in debt 'cause you make shit choices." Ian sounded eerily calm, now. "I'm done tryin' to buy your love; it's pretty fuckin' clear you only love me when I have somethin' to offer you."

"That's not true." Fiona looked hurt by the accusation, but Ian didn't give a shit. "I love you."

"Get out, Fiona... If you love me, tell Mickey the fuckin' truth. If you don't, I know what I mean to you and it ain't fuckin' much." Ian walked upstairs, not wanting to cry in front of Fiona.

 

"Do you really believe her?" Mandy asked Mickey as they sat in her living room as Harlow slept in the travel bassinet he had in the trunk of his car and Max slept in the guest bedroom.

"I don't fuckin' know, Mands; things have been really fuckin' good since we got back together. Maybe I'm just waitin' for something to go wrong." Mickey sighed, turning to watch his daughter sleep. "I love Ian, but I don't wanna think of what else he's lied about."

"Fiona's a bitch, Mick; she's not in control, anymore and that scares the shit outta her." Mandy pointed out, looking at her beautiful niece. "Ian told me, himself, he was scared shitless you'd leave after you guys fucked again 'cause he knew he wouldn't last long after goin' that long without it. You really think if he'd had a boyfriend for a year he wouldn't have fucked him?"

"No." Mickey admitted. Ian had still wanted him when he was fat and pregnant, so if he'd had a boyfriend he would have had sex with the guy. "I'll talk to him tomorrow." Mickey conceded. He didn't really want to spend any time away from Ian, but he'd been crushed thinking Ian had lied.

"All I'm askin'. I'm goin' to bed. You gonna sleep out here with her?" Mickey nodded. He wanted to stay close to his daughter, tonight. "Night, Mick. Talk to Ian, tomorrow; I know he didn't lie." Mandy left Mickey alone with his thoughts for the night, which could either be great or horrible for the brunette man.

 


	25. 21st Century Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter will be a text conversation between Mickey and Ian.

_Ian: Hey, baby, you're probably already asleep, but I wanted to tell you I love you and goodnight._

_Mick <3: I'm up. Why are you still awake?_

_Ian: Can't sleep without you._

_Mick <3: Be honest with me; was anything Fiona said true? Were you happier without me?_

_Ian: No, baby. I was miserable without you._

_Mick <3: Did you date anyone?_

_Ian: No; I couldn't fuckin stomach the idea of bein with anyone but you._

_Mick <3: Did Fiona know that?_

_Ian: She knew I didn't date, but not that I never fucked anyone else._

_Mick <3: Am I a shitty husband cause I still fucked a few people?_

_Ian: No; you had every fuckin right to have a life while we were apart._

_Mick <3: Does it bother you?_

_Ian: I don't love it, but I understand._

_Mick <3: I wish I hadn't._

_Ian: You have no reason to, baby; we were broken up._

_Mick <3: I still loved you._

_Ian: And we're together, now, so it doesn't matter._

_Mick <3: What she said... Ian, you had a life and I just fuckin dropped into it._

_Ian: I built this life for us, Mick._

_Mick <3: If I never came back Fiona wouldn't be actin like a fuckin bitch to you._

_Ian: I don't a give a shit about Fiona. You and our babies mean more to me than anyone else._

_Mick <3: What if you realize it was a mistake to choose me over Fiona, Ian? I don't want you to backslide._

_Ian: It's not a mistake. You're the love of my life, Mickey._

_Mick <3: I love you, Ian, and I just want you to be happy._

_Ian: I'm happy with you. I tried to fuckin kill myself when you were gone._

_Mick <3: Baby, you might try again cause Fiona's out of your life cause of me._

_Ian: You know what the last time she contacted me was? She was askin me to pay her electric, water, and gas bill cause she was flat broke. I did it, cause I was just fuckin happy that my sister called me, again. Then three months later she shows up to start shit, again. I don't fuckin need her if I gotta buy her love._

_Mick <3: I'm so fuckin sorry, baby._

_Ian: So I made the right choice; you don't want shit from me._

_Mick <3: Want you to love me._

_Ian: I do, baby. I love you so fuckin much it scares the shit outta me._

_Mick <3: You're off tomorrow, right?_

_Ian: Yeah._

_Mick <3: We'll talk about it when I get home tomorrow; Harlow's hungry, right now._

_Ian: Give baby girl a kiss for me?_

_Mick <3: I will._

_Mick <3: [Multimedia attachment]_

_Ian: She's so beautiful, Mick. We make cute fuckin kids._

_Mick <3: She's fuckin spoiled._

_Ian: You say that like it's a bad thing._

_Mick <3: Nah, just statin a fact._

_Ian: She's startin to look more like you._

_Mick <3: Are you fuckin kiddin me? She looks so much like you it's fuckin crazy._

_Ian: She's got your eyes._

_Mick <3: That's about it._

_Ian: And those cute fuckin dimples._

_Mick <3: The hell is your obsession with my dimples?_

_Ian: They're cute as shit._

_Mick <3: Lol, fuckin weirdo!_

_Ian: You love me :-)_

_Mick <3: Not sure why._

_Ian: I have a big dick ;-)_

_Mick <3: Lol, part of the reason, yeah._

_Ian: Mick, I'm serious... I love you, and I don't regret choosin you; I'd do it a million times over._

_Mick <3: I love you, too, baby._

_Ian: I miss you._

_Mick <3: Miss you, too. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Try to get some sleep for me?_

_Ian: You know I won't be able to._

_Mick <3: Just try? The kids are gonna want to spend some time with their Papa when we get home._

_Ian: I'll try. No promises, though._

_Mick <3: All I'm askin. We'll try to take a nap when the kids do._

_Ian: Promise? Cause I wanna cuddle with my baby._

_Mick <3: I promise._

_Ian: Love you, baby. Get some sleep while Harlow's sleepin._

_Mick <3: Love you, too. Goodnight, baby._

_Ian: Goodnight, love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some comments because I absolutely love hearing your opinions on my stories. Much Love!


	26. Smoke Rings And Silver Screens

Harlow woke up more often throughout the night than she had any other night since she was born. Mickey and Mandy both assumed she just missed her father. "Come on, pretty girl; Papa's probably waitin' for you." Mickey cooed, lifting his daughter out of her careseat once they pulled up to the house. Mickey knew Ian hadn't slept; he loved his husband, but he was a clingy fucker when he slept, so he doubted he could sleep alone.

"Papa's been waitin' since seven." Ian said with a smile. "Max asleep?" Mickey nodded; Max still had a habit of falling asleep in the car unless he was going to and from school. "I got him." Ian sighed, scooping his sleeping son out of the backseat of Mickey's shitty little car. "God, I missed you guys." He sighed, kissing Max's messy red hair.

"Missed you, too, baby." Mickey replied, carrying Harlow into the house. "You okay?"

"Better now that you're home." Ian answered honestly. He sat Max on the couch so he could continue his nap. "I missed my babies."

"Knew you only missed the kids." Mickey teased.

"I meant all three of you." Ian said, wrapping one arm around Mickey and softly caressing Harlow's downy hair with his free hand. "Fiona was wrong, Mick; I've never been happier than I am with you."

"Ian... be honest with me, are you gonna be okay?" Mickey asked, laying Harlow in her bassinet.

"I'm gonna be fine as long as I got you." Ian answered, moving to hug Mickey from behind. "You're all I ever wanted."

"All I ever wanted, too." Mickey placed a hand over Ian's on his stomach. "You know I don't look like I did before I had Harlow, right?"

"I don't give a shit." Ian muttered against Mickey's neck. "You're still Mickey and I fuckin' love you."

"I'm fat, now." Mickey whispered; he had always felt uncomfortable with his body-even before he got pregnant with Max-and it only got worse after his longest standing fuck buddy while he was separated from Ian told him his body looked awful. And now he had given birth to another child, and he didn't want Ian to be caught off guard the first time he saw Mickey naked again.

"Mick, I'm always gonna want you." He ground his hard cock against Mickey's ass to prove a point. "You're fuckin' flawless, baby."

"Can't fuck." Mickey reminded Ian lightly, though he did feel a hell of a lot sexier knowing Ian still wanted him.

"I know." Ian sighed. "Just sayin' you still look fuckin' good." Mickey laughed, pressing his back against the warmth radiating off Ian's chest. "We really did make beautiful babies."

"Yeah, we did." Mickey brushed his thumb along Harlow's jaw, basking in the warmth of his husband's body and their daughter's soft skin. "Don't think she's gonna have as many freckles as Max."

"He have freckles when he was a baby?" Ian asked, resting his chin on Mickey's shoulder to look down at Harlow.

"Shit ton." Mickey laughed at the memory of his son's face full of freckles the moment he was born. Harlow had just a light dusting over her nose, which made her look even more adorable. "Think he's gonna be like you; gonna get lighter as he gets older."

"I hope so; fuckin' sucks when people notice 'em." Ian laughed softly. He placed a kiss on Mickey's jawline, just happy to have Mickey and their kids home.

 

After Lip talked to Ian he had made a deal with Kev to move into the apartment over the Alibi; he wanted out of Fiona's house as soon as possible. "The hell are you goin'?" Fiona asked Lip as he descended the stairs with a backpack and duffel bag filled with his belongings.

"Movin' out." Lip stated, simply, lighting a cigarette. "Not livin' with the person who tried to fuck up the happiest our brother has ever been; you know he called me havin' a fuckin' panic attack 'cause Mick left with the kids over your bullshit?" 

"He's better off without him!" Fiona shouted.

"He wanted to die! Did you fuckin' forget that we spent five years alternating who was gonna watch him to make sure he didn't fuckin' kill himself?" Lip shot back, nearly smirking at the hurt look on Fiona's face. "I'm fuckin' done helpin' you."

"Lip-" Lip lifted his bags, ready to walk out. "Lip, Mickey Milkovich is toxic."

"Mickey  _Gallagher_ is our younger brother's fuckin' husband. And we're done here." Lip walked out, feeling a pang in his chest as he left his childhood home.


	27. Your Sin Is Pride

Liam had started staying with Lip in the apartment over the Alibi, Carl was in Military school, Debbie had an apartment with her daughter, and Ian was still in that sham he called a fucking marriage, which left Fiona all alone. She hated being alone; she'd always had her siblings around, and being alone felt bizarre. All of this because Ian wanted to stay with the fucking slut he'd knocked up. She made her way into the Alibi, earning several glares as she approached the bar. "Get outta here, Fi." Kev sighed, wiping glasses.

"What?" Why was her friend telling her to leave? She had done nothing to the man behind the bar.

"Ian and Mickey are my friends. And that shit you pulled? That was fucked up." Kev said, look straight into her wide brown eyes. "Ian didn't tell me; Lip did. If you're gonna do shit like that to family you're not welcome in my bar." Fiona was completely caught off guard; why the hell was everyone on Mickey Milkovich's side? "Better leave before Vee gets back; she's pissed."

"Why? Can people honestly fuckin' say they think Mickey Milkovich is a good person?" Fiona all but yelled.

"Mickey is a good person; he's good dad and he fuckin' loves Ian." Kev shot back. "Get out and don't come back to my fuckin' bar." Fiona shot a glare at Kev before standing up and marching out of the bar. She was truly alone and it felt horrible.

 

"Your brother called." Mickey whispered, sitting down next to Ian on the couch as he burped Harlow.

"Which one?" Ian asked quietly, trying not to startle the infant girl in his arms.

"Liam; said Fiona went to the bar and Kev kicked her ass to the curb." Mickey may despise Fiona for hurting Ian, but he didn't believe anyone should be as alone as the brunette woman was right now.

"Good. She needs to get her head outta her ass and see she was wrong." Ian muttered, smirking as Harlow let out a rather loud belch. "Definitely your kid."

"That's my girl!" Mickey said proudly, smiling at the girl who had clearly shocked herself with her loud burp. "Just like your daddy, huh?" He cooed, taking his daughter into his own arms.

"Look at you, pretty girl!" Ian cooed down at the girl, laying on Mickey's thighs. "My beautiful baby girl." Mickey ran his fingers through Harlow's red hair, staring lovingly at his daughter's bright blue eyes. "Fiona did this to herself, Mick. You know that, right?"

"Still shitty to be alone." Mickey muttered. He had spent five years with only his son, and it had taken it's toll on him. Ian kissed Mickey's temple as if he could read Mickey's mind. Max slowly walked over to his parents, climbing onto the couch to look down at his sister. "What's up, little man?"

"Is Papa's sissy mad at Papa?" They knew Max had heard them talk about Fiona, but hadn't expected him to ask about it.

"Max..." Ian started, wondering what he should say to his son about his older sister. "Papa's sissy doesn't like that Papa doesn't live with her, anymore." He didn't want his son to know his sister hated his husband and resented his children; he loved his children too much for that. Max seemed to accept that answer and went about playing with Harlow's feet as she rested on Mickey's legs. Ian watched his family, wishing his sister would someday be a part of it.


	28. You Need Me, But I Don't Need You

Fiona had spent a month alone, and to make it worse, she had lost her actual paying job due to her own distraction. She had heard about a little bistro on the Northside hiring for servers, so she made her way uptown to look into it.

"Can I help you?" The hostess asked Fiona with a kind smile.

"I heard you guys were hirin'?" Fiona hadn't meant it to come out as a question, but after a month without kindness it felt strange.

"Let me get our manager for you, sweetie." The hostess said sweetly, rushing off to find her manager. The place was nice-Fiona noticed-and servers all seemed rather relaxed.

"Hey, I'm... Fiona?" Fiona turned when she heard her name, seeing her brother's husband in a neatly pressed shirt and a dark blue tie. "What're you doin' here?"

"Thought you just had a baby?" Fiona asked without meaning to.

"Guy coverin' for me got sick so I had to come in for a few hours." Mickey answered politely. "So you're lookin' for a job?"

"Uhm... Yeah." Fiona awkwardly replied. "Where's the manager?"

"Lookin' at him. Got some applications in my office. Follow me." Fiona nodded quickly, fallowing Mickey to the small office at the back of restaurant where the hostess sat with a small baby. "Thanks for watchin' her, Grace." The hostess nodded before exiting the office. "Here we go; fill this out and I'll take a look at it." Mickey said, passing Fiona an application before taking his daughter out of the travel bassinet.

"You really gonna act like we don't know each other?" Fiona asked in a scoff, looking down at the application in front of her.

"Not actin'; just bein' professional." Mickey said gently. "I don't got the energy to fight with you; I got a baby, a six-year-old, I'm back at work earlier than I was supposed to be, and I just don't feel like dealin' with whatever fuckin' issues you got with me."

"Ian know you're here?" Fiona asked offhandedly.

"Called him when I was on my way, but he's at work." Mickey answered honestly. "Don't gotta talk to me; just finish that and you can take off."

"You know my whole family hates me 'cause of you?" She asked without looking up from the application she was working on. "They all think you're some fuckin' saint just 'cause you got pregnant."

"I didn't say shit to anyone in your family but my husband." Mickey replied, standing up to place a bottle in the bottle warmer for his daughter. "And I don't fuckin' plan on it, 'cause I got nothin' against you; I get I was a bad guy when I was younger, Fiona, but I grew the fuck up when Ian was diagnosed. Grew up even more when I got pregnant with our son."

"You expect me to believe you completely changed?" She signed her name at the bottom, moving the application to sit in front of the computer on Mickey's desk.

"No. But I'm an adult, now, and I ain't gonna hurt Ian." Mickey promised as he fed the baby in his arms. "I love your brother, and I'm not goin' anywhere."

 

"Can't believe you're gonna give her a job." Ian sighed, scooping food onto Max's plate at dinner.

"She's your sister, Ian; I ain't gonna let her suffer just 'cause she hurt my feelings." Mickey didn't look away from where Harlow slept in her bassinet.

"She didn't "hurt your feelings" she tried to fuckin' break us up." Ian deadpanned, moving to get Max a cup of juice.

"She's still family." Mickey said adamantly. "You don't turn your back on family."

"Why the hell are you so nice?" Ian groan, sinking into his own chair.

"Learned from the best." Mickey whispered, leaning over to kiss Ian.

"If she says sorry it's all okay, right?" Max asked with wide eyes.

"Of course, Chipmunk." Mickey replied, ruffling his son's hair. Ian watched his son and husband, wondering if Fiona would ever apologize and become a part of their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some comments, beauties! Much Love!


	29. The Error In Your Ways

She had worked here for over a month and the only person who talked to her without it concerning orders was Mickey. How the hell had she become so desperate for companionship that she turned to Mickey fucking Milkovich-Gallagher, everyone kept correcting her-and how was he actually good company? "Got a minute?" Fiona asked, peeking into Mickey's office during what should have been his lunch break. She was surprised-however-to see her brother, their son, and the baby in the office with him, his lap full of a vomit covered, crying six-year-old. "Sorry."

"You been treatin' Mick like a human, you can come in." Ian said in that eerie calm he always got when he was pissed.

"What happened?" She asked, stepping into the office.

"Told his teacher he felt sick and the bitch didn't let him go to the bathroom." Mickey sighed, rubbing the boy's-Max, if she remember correctly-back.

"Poor kid." Fiona sighed, taking a seat next to Ian on the couch in Mickey's office.

"More embarrassed than anything." Ian said, adjusting the baby in his arms. "Puked in front of all his friends."

"Thought he went to school in Dolton?" Fiona asked, looking over at the boy in Mickey's lap.

"Does; he kept cryin' 'til Ian brought him here to see me. Changed the kid's shirt at school and made himself puke again from cryin' in the car. Hey, Sophia's comin' in early to take over for me. Can you tell her I got through payroll?" Mickey asked, kissing his son's hair.

"Yeah, of course." Fiona said with a nod. "I think I got an extra t-shirt in my bag if you wanna get him cleaned up; used to be Ian's when he was younger, so it might be a little big on him, but it should work." Fiona offered, feeling bad about the poor boy being covered in his own vomit.

"Thanks, Fi." Mickey said, shushing Max as he rocked him back and forth. "You get his booster seat cleaned up, baby?" Mickey asked Ian without looking away from Max.

"Yeah; glad we had an extra cover for it." Ian replied, moving the giggling little girl in his arms. "What're you laughin' at, sweetie?" Fiona had forgotten she had offered to get her nephew a shirt, too caught up in watching her brother, his husband, and their children interact.

"Oh, hey, Fiona?" Mickey called out when Fiona stood up to leave. "You know Ryan's leavin', right?" Fiona nodded. "You want his job?" Fiona's jaw dropped; Ryan was Mickey's assistant manager, and Mickey was offering her his job.

"Are you serious? What about Jack?" Jack was the server who had worked at the bistro the longest-even if he was a little unmotivated-while Fiona had been at the restaurant for only a month.

"You come in early, leave late, pick up tables that aren't in your section when we get too busy, and the customers have nothin' but good things to say about you. I need someone who can do the job, and that ain't Jack." Mickey said honestly. "You want it or not?"

"Yes! Oh my God, thank you, Mickey!" She reached out and hugged the younger man, mindful of the small child in his lap. "Thank you so much!"

"Chose the person who could do the damn job." Mickey responded gruffly, trying not to show how shocked he was that Fiona had hugged him.

 

"How did you win Fi over?" Ian asked, scrubbing Max's scalp while the boy played with his Squirtle bath toy. "Head back, Chipmunk." Max complied, leaning back for Ian to help him rinse his hair.

"We work together; don't think I really won her over." Mickey replied, leaning against the bathroom doorway. "We keep things professional."

"She seems to actually like you, now, baby." Ian said lightly. "It was nice."

"Maybe she's just gettin' over it." Mickey said with a shrug. "Feelin' better, Chipmunk?"

"Yes, daddy." Max said softly. "My belly feels good."

"Good." Ian said, making Max's hair into a mohawk.

"Daddy! Papa made me cool!" Max laughed, tipping his head back.

"You're silly." Mickey chuckled. "Gonna go get Harlow's bottle ready; kid'll be up any second." He shook the baby monitor in his hand before exiting the bathroom.

"Papa?" Max chimed, making his Squirtle toy shoot water out of it's mouth.

"Yeah, Chipmunk?" Ian took the wash cloth in his hand, letting the cool water run down Max's back as he waited for the younger redhead to ask whatever question he had.

"How did me and sissy get in daddy's belly?" Ian heard Mickey laughing from outside the bathroom door, obviously glad their son was asking him these questions. Motherfucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some comments, beauties! Much love!


	30. The Call

The day Harlow turned four months old started with Mickey's phone ringing incessantly on the nightstand by his head. "Get the fuckin' phone, baby." Ian groaned, still half asleep.

"Hello?" Mickey was sure he was barely intelligible past his yawn.

"Mick... I know it's early, but I gotta tell you something." Mandy said nervously on the other end of the line.

"You okay, Mands?" Mickey asked, much more awake now.

"He's dead, Mick; some guys inside found out he was plannin' on killin' a kid and jumped him." Mandy rushed out. "He was dead before the guards could break it up."

"Terry's dead?" Mickey asked, cautiously optimistic. Ian jumped up, eyes wide as he heard those words.

"Uncle Ronnie's pissed, Mick." He understood why Mandy was nervous, now; his Uncle and cousins would go looking for vengeance now that Terry was dead.

"I'll watch my back. You do the same." Mickey instructed his sister.

"I will. I love you, Mick." Mandy said in a shaky voice.

"Love you, too, bitch." Mickey had to get a laugh out of Mandy; he hated knowing his sister was upset. He hung up his phone when he heard Mandy laugh softly, knowing she was okay. "My Uncle's pissed."

"We'll deal with that when the time comes." Ian promised. "I got your back, baby."

"I know." Mickey leaned over, pressing a kiss to Ian's lips. "Thank you."

"Don't gotta thank me; you don't turn your back on family, right?" Ian ran his fingers through Mickey's messy hair. "Love seein' you like this."

"Happy that my dad died? That's kinda fucked up." Mickey chastised, lightly.

"Happy and relaxed; love knowin' you're not scared of the real you, anymore." Ian replied, scratching along the base of Mickey's skull. "You look good like this."

"Fuck off, I always look good." Mickey scoffed, leaning back into Ian's touch.

"Yes you do." Ian agreed with a smile. "My fuckin' sexy ass husband." He pulled Mickey to lay on top of him, their bodies flush against each other. "I'm not gonna let shit happen to you, Mick."

"I know you won't." Mickey assured his fucking Adonis of a husband, carding his fingers on his right hand through Ian's copper hair as he laced his left hand with Ian's right. "We got each other's back." Ian nodded in agreement, wrapping his left arm around Mickey's waist. This was supposed to be a good day, and Ian would be damned if Terry fucking Milkovich ruined that.

 

"Can I help?" Max asked Ian as he dressed Harlow in the little outfit Debbie got her to take a few pictures.

"Sure, Chipmunk. Can you get me a pair of socks for sissy?" Max nodded, running over to Harlow's dresser and fetching a pair of tiny pink socks. "Thanks, buddy."

"When is sissy gonna be big enough to play with me?" Max asked, watching Ian slip the socks on the giggling baby's feet.

"In a few months, Chipmunk." Mickey said, walking into the room with Harlow's favorite toy. "Kid spit up all over it." Harlow laughed hysterically when she saw the soft, ladybug rattle. "Someone's a happy girl, today!"

"Sissy laughs a lot." Max giggled, tickling Harlow's little foot.

"Yes she does." Mickey said, lifting Harlow into his arms. "Daddy's Ladybug is a happy baby!"

"She's Papa's Ladybug." Ian scoffed. "Hey, Harlow!" He cooed, earning another giggle from the baby.

"Big deal; she laughed at her bottle for an hour, yesterday." Mickey teased. "Kid laughs at everything."

"Sissy laughs at me!" Max chirped. "I'm sissy's favorite."

"Damn it. Kid wins." Mickey conceded, Ian nodding in agreement as Max begged Ian to pick him up so he could kiss his sister's nose. Ian was fucking happy; Terry hadn't ruined their day with their beautiful babies. They would eventually have to deal with Mickey's Uncle, but for today? They were going to enjoy having some time with Max and Harlow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some more amazing comments, beauties! Much love!


	31. Talk To Me

"I'm surprised you haven't called your mom and told her about Max and Harlow." Mickey commented as he and Ian cleaned the kitchen one night after dinner while Harlow slept in her bassinet near the kitchen table and Max worked on his homework-just coloring pictures with the appropriate color-at the table.

"I can't." Ian simply said, loading the dishwasher as Mickey wiped the counter.

"Don't have her number?" Mickey guessed, putting away a pan Ian passed him.

"No. She killed herself about a year after you left." Ian said, quietly enough for Max to remain blissfully unaware of what his parents were talking about.

"Baby, I'm so fuckin' sorry." Mickey didn't like that Monica tried to convince Ian he didn't need the meds, but he knows his husband had truly loved his mother.

"Not your fault; we all knew she was a tickin' fuckin' time bomb." Ian replied with a shrug. "It's been five years; I'm okay, now."

"I shoulda been there for you." Mickey muttered. "I'm sorry I wasn't."

"Hey," Ian turned around, caging Mickey against the counter with his arms. "you're here, now; all that matters." Ian slid his left arm around his husband's waist and turned to look at his children. "She would've just ditched them like she did her own kids, and I wouldn't have fuckin' wanted her to put our kids through that."

"Debs said you were her favorite; she might've been a good grandma just 'cause of that." Mickey said, hoping it would offer Ian some solace.

"I'm okay with her not bein' here, Mick; our kids have a pretty fuckin' good family." Max looked up at his parents, a wide, dimpled smile on his face. "What's up, Chipmunk?"

"I'm done!" Max cheered. "Can you check it, Daddy?"

"Sure, Chipmunk." Mickey patted Ian's hand, moving to Max's side. As Mickey picked up the paper, Harlow started cry.

"I got her." Ian said, moving to scoop the baby up. "Looks like Ladybug needs changed!" He cooed to the tiny girl before he walked out of the room with Harlow in his arms.

"You did good, Chipmunk." Mickey praised, amazed at himself for being proud of someone fucking coloring a picture the right colors. "You're such a smart boy."

"I am?" Max asked, smile even broader than before. "Thank you, Daddy!" Max exclaimed, hugging his father. Mickey hugged back, smiling at Max's pride.

 

"Uncle Ronnie?" Iggy was shocked to see his Uncle at his door; even more so that Ronnie looked happy.

"Iggy! How are ya, kid?" Ronnie asked, thumping Iggy on the back.

"Good. What're you doin' here?" Iggy asked, stepping away from the door so his Uncle could come inside.

"Wanted to ask where Mickey is." Ronnie said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his nephew. "Can't seem to find him anywhere in Chicago."

"Haven't seen him since the trial." That was a fucking lie; he'd seen Mickey yesterday when he went to the house he shared with Ian and their children.

"Hmm... That's too bad; wanted to talk to him about what a fuckin' tragedy it is that your dad died." Iggy could see something in his Uncle's face; something vicious that had him more determined than ever to protect his younger brother from Ronnie.

"If I hear from him I'll let ya know." Iggy said, hoping his Uncle would leave.

"You do that, Iggy. Sorry about Terry; he was a good man." No he fucking wasn't but Iggy wasn't about to say that.

"Thanks, Uncle Ronnie. Sorry about it, too; know you two were close." Iggy replied, itching to call Mickey.

"Thanks, kid." Ronnie said, exiting Iggy's house.

 

"Fuck!" Mickey shouted, throwing his phone across the room and collapsing onto the bathroom floor.

"What the hell was that?" Ian yelled, rushing into the bathroom connected to the bedroom they shared. "Did you throw you're phone?"

"Yeah." Mickey said from his spot on the bathroom floor. "Ronnie knows Iggy knows where I am; went to Iggy's place askin' about me."

"Shit." Ian sighed, dropping to the floor next to Mickey. "We'll figure it out, baby."

"Hope you're right; Terry was brute force, but Ronnie's fuckin' cunning." Mickey said miserably, laying his head on Ian's shoulder. "Got a lot of work a head of us. You still gonna love me with him chasin' after us?"

"Always gonna love you, beautiful." Ian promised, kissing Mickey's head. "His ass is goin' down; we're still fuckin' Southside." Mickey laughed low and deep, earning a smile from Ian. This wouldn't be easy, but what ever was for the starcrossed kids from the Southside?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some comments, please! Much love!


	32. Changes

Ian took security a lot more seriously now that he had a family to protect; he'd purchased a gun-legally-and got another dog, who was a trained guard dog but would still play with Max and would lay beside Harlow's mat when she was playing in the floor.

"Jake, bed!" Ian told the German Shepard, who obeyed and laid down in his bed beside the front door. "Max, come on, buddy; bedtime." Max stood slowly from his spot in the floor, Hyde close on his heels.

"Night, Jake." Max said, scratching Jake's head before trudging up the stairs with Hyde.

"Come on, Ladybug." Mickey said, lifting a very tired Harlow off her playmat. "Be back once I get her to sleep. You gonna read Max a story?"

"Yeah. Just gonna lock the doors, first." Ian replied, kissing Mickey before the older man walked up the stairs with Harlow in his arms. Ian locked the front and back door-all of the windows having been locked earlier-before patting Jake on the head and walking up the stairs. "What're we readin' tonight, Chipmunk?" Ian asked his son, already curled up in his bed with Hyde at his side.

""Goodnight, Moon", Papa." Max yawned, draping his arm over Hyde.

"You got it, little man." Ian said, sitting down on the edge of the bed with Max, book in hand. "In the great green room. there was a telephone And a red balloon And a picture of the cow jumping over the moon. And there were three little bears sitting on chairs And two little kittens and a pair of mittens And a little toy house and a young mouse.

"And a comb and a brush And a bowl full of mush And a quiet old lady who was whispering, "Hush." Good night, room. Good night, moon. Good night, cow jumping over the moon. Good night, light and the red balloon. Good night, bears. Good night, chairs. Good night, kittens.

"Good night, mittens. Good night, clocks. Good night, socks. Good night, little house. Good night, mouse. Good night, comb. Good night, brush. Good night, nobody. Good night, mush.

"Good night to the old lady whispering, "Hush." Good night, stars. Good night, air. Good night, noises everywhere." Ian finished to book, looking over to see his son already asleep. "And goodnight, Max Gallagher." Ian whispered, kissing his son's head before standing up.

"Guess he's got his own guard dog." Mickey whispered from just inside the room.

"Guess so." Ian said with a smile, watching Mickey move to kiss their son, as well. "She went down pretty easy, tonight." Ian commented as they walked downstairs to their own bedroom.

"Think they were both just tired; you only had to read "Goodnight Moon" once." Mickey replied, scratching Jake's head before walking to their room for the night. "Come 'ere." Mickey said once Ian closed their bedroom door, pulling him into a possessive kiss.

"Clothes off." Both men stripped in record time and climbed onto their bed, together. "God, you're so fuckin' hot, baby." Ian whispered in a slight moan, kissing down Mickey's torso, paying special attention to his sensitive nipples.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Mickey chanted, arching into Ian's touch as he kissed further down, running his tongue along his soft stomach. "God, yes!" Mickey Gasped when Ian surprised him by taking his cock in his mouth and swallowing down to the base as he used lube-slicked fingers to stretch Mickey open. "Fuck, baby." Mickey was a whining mess by the time Ian had two fingers inside him, crooked to press against his prostate.

"Tell me what you want, Mick." Ian growled low in his throat as he pulled off Mickey's cock with a wet pop.

"Fuck me, I'm good." Mickey panted, pulling Ian up by his hair. "Please, baby." Ian smirked, rolling on a condom he'd managed to grab while Mickey was distracted and slicking his own cock.

"I got you, baby." Ian promised, distracting Mickey with a kiss as he thrusted into the brunette man. "Fuck." Ian panted, moving away enough to bury his face in Mickey's neck. "So fuckin' tight." He moaned as he started to slowly rock his hips against Mickey.

"There!" Mickey gasped when Ian angled his hips just right. Ian pulled Mickey tighter to him, their stomachs creating a delicious friction on Mickey's leaking cock as he slowly thrusted and rocked his hips, continuously nailing Mickey's prostate until it was all too much-too fucking good-and Mickey came with a shout of Ian's name.

"Shit." Ian gasped when Mickey tightened around his cock, sending him over the edge, spilling into the condom. "Fuck, Mick." Ian panted, cleaning them both up with a tissue and throwing the condom away before collapsing next to Mickey on their bed. "God you're amazing."

"Do what I can." Mickey joked, pulling the covers over them and cuddling into Ian's chest. "I love you, Ian Gallagher."

"I love you, too." Ian whispered, wrapping his arms around Mickey's limp body. "Mickey Gallagher." Ian smiled, loving the sound of calling Mickey "Mickey Gallagher" as they fell asleep in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Goodnight Moon" by Margaret Wise Brown was one of my favorite books as a child, so I had to put it in here. Let me know if you guys liked this chapter. Much love!


	33. Some Nights-Part One (Max)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next five chapters will all take place on the same night following different characters.

Max was having a good dream; he was playing outside with Hyde, Jake, his sissy, his daddy, and his papa. This was a happy dream, until he woke up hearing Hyde growling and Jake barking downstairs. Max could hear pounding on the front door and a man yelling bad words and his daddy's name. Max was scared; he just wanted the man to go away so he could go back to his happy dream. "Daddy?" Max whimpered, wrapping his arms around the stuffed Ninja Turtle Papa got him for his birthday and sniffling while he waited for his daddy to come get him. Maybe Papa's daddy is sleepy, again, and needs a nap on the couch.

Max heard his sissy crying-she must be scared, too-and decided to go to her room with Hyde; Hyde would keep them safe. Max slowly stood up and snuck out of his room with Hyde close to him and quietly walked into his sissy's room. "It's okay, sissy." Max whispered, letting her squeeze his finger through the bars of her crib.

"Max?!" Max heard his daddy yell from his bedroom. "Holy shit, Max!" His daddy yelled again, opening the bathroom door and then sissy's door. "Oh thank God!" His daddy sighed, locking the door behind him and dropping to the ground, holding Max close to him. "You scared me, Chipmunk!"

"Sissy was scared, Daddy." Max said, hugging his daddy back. "I'm sorry I scared you, Daddy."

"Just glad you're okay, Chipmunk." His daddy sighed, kissing his cheek. "Max, I want you to stay in here, okay? You're gonna stay in here with daddy and Harlow no matter what you hear." Max nodded, moving to curl up on the soft elephant chair with a blanket and his ninja turtle in his arms and Hyde by his feet.

"Daddy?" Max called as his daddy picked up his sissy up and rocked her in his arms. "What's wrong?"

Max..." His daddy said, sitting in the floor with his sissy in his arms as the noise continued downstairs. "My daddy has a brother, and he's mad at me because my daddy didn't like that I love another boy and had babies with your Papa."

"Is he gonna hurt Papa?" Max asked, looking up at his daddy with wide eyes.

"No, baby; Papa's gonna be okay. Go back to sleep, Max. Daddy's here." His daddy said as his sissy finally stopped crying. Max laid his head on his daddy's arm and fell back asleep, asking God to keep his Papa safe like his friend, Sarah, told him to.

'God, please help my Papa; he is a the best papa and he loves us. My friend said you help people who need it, and my Papa needs it.' He thought to God as he fell asleep.

 

Max woke up soon after he'd fallen asleep to a loud popping noise and his daddy crying. He cried, as well, thinking his papa got hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was short, but I wanted to give a little glimpse of Max's thoughts during a night that could easily traumatize a small child. Leave me some comments with your thoughts. Much love!


	34. Some Nights-Part Two (Mickey)

Mickey was comfortably wrapped in Ian's arms, sleeping peacefully and dreaming of a time when Ian, Max, Harlow, and himself wouldn't have to worry about his father's family. He was completely at ease, until Jake started to bark and Ian jumped up. "The hell's goin' on?" Ian exclaimed, looking around for some disruption.

"Who knows; maybe Jake needs to go outside." Mickey said, rubbing sleep from his eyes as Ian moved to get his gun out of the top of the closet. "Ian, come on, baby, it's nothin'."

"We don't know that, Mick; I'm just bein' prepared." Ian said, loading bullets into the gun. Mickey agreed they needed to be prepared, but he was concerned Ian was worried for nothing. He was about to tell Ian that, when the pounding started.

"Mickey! Open that fuckin' door, Mickey!" Ronnie Milkovich yelled as he threw his body against the front door. Mickey jumped out of the bed, pulling on a pair of boxers and sweatpants, ready to face his uncle.

"The hell are you doin'?" Ian asked, grabbing Mickey's arm to stop him. Mickey just wanted this over with; he wanted to get Ronnie to leave his family the fuck alone.

"I'm goin' out there. Go upstairs with the kids." Mickey instructed his husband, trying to pull his arm out of Ian's grip with no success. "Let me go, Ian." Mickey would be lying if he said he wasn't fucking terrified of what Ronnie was going to do to him, but he would gladly take a fucking bullet for his children and his husband.

"No! Fuck no, you go upstairs, keep the kids calm, and wait for me to come get you guys." Ian ordered Mickey, only serving to piss the shorter man off. "I'll call the police and keep him busy until they get here, but you need to be the one with the kids, Mick; they need you."

"Call while I can see you and I'll go." Mickey compromised. He didn't want his husband putting himself in danger at all, but he'd feel better knowing Ian had back up. All Mickey could hear as Ian talked to a dispatcher was Ronnie screaming that he was a slut and that Terry should have killed him when he had the chance. And maybe Ronnie was right.

"Go." Ian said, releasing Mickey's arm. "I love you, okay? I love you and I'm gonna be fine."

"I love you." Mickey pulled Ian into a kiss, savoring the taste of Ian's mouth before darting up the stairs; he would get Max and lock them both in Harlow's room. "Max?!" He was freaking the fuck out; Max wasn't in his bedroom. Where the Hell was his son? Mickey ran to the bathroom, throwing the door open, but seeing no sign of the redheaded boy. "Holy shit, Max?!" His last option on this floor was Harlow's bedroom, and Mickey was praying his son was in there.

"Oh thank God!" Mickey sighed, locking the door and dropping to the floor, hugging Max for dear life. "You scared me, Chipmunk!"

"Sissy was scared, Daddy." Max said, pulling his hand away from Harlow to hug Mickey back. "I'm sorry I scared you, Daddy." Mickey didn't like how guilty Max sounded.

"Just glad you're okay, Chipmunk." Mickey said, kissing his son's cheek softly. "Max, I want you to stay in here, okay? You're gonna stay in here with daddy and Harlow no matter what you hear." Max nodded in agreement, moving to sit in the plush elephant chair at the corner of the room with a blanket, his stuffed Ninja Turtle, and Hyde close at his side as Mickey moved to comfort his infant daughter.

"Daddy?" Mickey hummed to let Max know he was listening, rocking Harlow in his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Max..." Mickey tried to think of how to explain that his homophobic father's conniving brother wanted Mickey's blood in return for his Father's. "My daddy has a brother, and he's mad at me because my daddy didn't like that I love another boy and had babies with your Papa." Mickey thought that was the best way to explain it, and hoped Max didn't ask too many questions.

"Is he gonna hurt Papa?" Max asked, serving to break Mickey's heart; he hoped nothing would happen to Ian, but he wasn't sure what Ronnie had planned. No fucking way was he telling his baby boy that, though.

"No, baby; Papa's gonna be okay. Go back to sleep, Max. Daddy's here." Mickey reassured his son, watching as both of his children fell asleep with their heads rested on him. He prayed to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in to protect the love of his life. 'God, I never ask you for shit, so please help Ian; he's a good man and doesn't deserve this just because he fell in love with me. Please protect him... I love him, and I can't lose him when I just got him back.'

Roughly ten minutes later, a gunshot rang through the house and Mickey burst into tears, sure Ian was on the receiving end of that shot. He couldn't even comfort Max when he started crying beside him, because he knew Max didn't understand the possible outcome of that sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this, but I love cliffhangers. Leave me some comments and let me know what you think of this chapter. Much love!


	35. Some Nights-Part Three (Carl)

Lip had instructed Carl not to tell Fiona he had left Military school, joined the Police academy, and moved just outside Dolton in order to be closer to Ian, Mickey, and their two children. He liked his new job; he worked nights, could spend his days with his family, and had a decent little apartment where he could sleep off his long shifts. "Gallagher, we got a call." His partner-Lanie-told him before walking off to their squad car.

"What is it?" Carl asked, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting for the woman to drive.

"Attempted breaking and entering; dispatch said the guy on the phone knows the guy tryin' to get in and he seemed pretty scared he'd get to his kids." Carl felt a cold sweat breaking out over his body as they drove, realizing they were headed in the direction of his older brother's house. "You okay, kid?" Carl liked Lanie; she was a sweet, yet strong woman in her mid thirties with an edge that would fit in well on the Southside.

"My brother lives in this neighborhood; he's married and has two kids." Carl said, watching familiar houses pass him by. "His husband's family are a bunch of fuckin' homophobes; ain't exactly happy Mickey's gay, married to a man, and gave birth to two kids."

"How old are they?" Lanie asked as they turned onto Ian's street.

"My brother's twenty-four and Mickey's twenty-six." Carl replied, feeling vomit trying to make it's way up his throat. "Their son Max is gonna be six in December and their daughter Harlow is five months." Carl felt tears blurring his vision when they pulled up in front of Ian's house, the door broken in and Jake lunging at someone Carl couldn't see. 

"This is my brother's house!" Carl jumped out of the car, running towards the front door. "Police! Hands up!" Carl exclaimed, finding both his brother and an older man-who was clearly a Milkovich-on the ground. "Ian!" Carl shouted, running to his brother's side.

"I'm fine. Go make sure Mick and the kids are okay." Ian panted, holding his side as blood pooled on his hand.

"You got shot." Carl pointed out, trying in vain to help his brother.

"Nah, he knocked the door in on me." Ian laughed, though it was clearly pained. "Jake pulled him off me... Jake?" Ian was clearly now clearly panicked. "Here, Jake!" The dog limped over-a splinter of wood lodged in his front paw-and laid down beside his owner. "Good boy, Jake."

"Where are Mick and the kids?" Carl asked as Lanie cuffed the man on the ground, shouting about the bullet in his leg.

"Check Harlow's room; it's got a lock and Max's room doesn't." Carl nodded, signaling to Lanie that he was going to check on his brother-in-law, nephew, and niece. Carl knocked on Harlow's bedroom door, hearing crying from the other side.

"Mick, it's Carl." Carl called out, hearing shuffling before the door opened. "He's okay; his side's busted up and the door's fuckin' done for, but Ian's okay." Mickey let out a shaky breath. "He's okay, Mick." Carl whispered, hugging his brother-in-law, mindful of his niece in the other man's arms.

"Oh thank God." Mickey breathed, kissing Harlow's downy red hair. "What about Ronnie?"

"Bullet in his leg." Carl said gently as an ambulance approached. "Go with him; I was about to get off, anyway, so I'll watch the kids."

"Thanks, kid." Mickey said, passing the infant to her uncle. "Max is gonna have to come with me, though; kid's a mess." Mickey said, turning and plucking his son up. "Papa's okay, baby." Mickey whispered, bringing fresh tears to his eyes as he saw his Nephew cling to his father. Carl moved to sit down in the chair, watching Mickey rush out with Max in his arms. He hoped this would be the final obstacle for the couple, because they deserved more than the world had given them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now you guys know Ian isn't dead. Leave me some comments and let me know what you thought. Much love!


	36. Some Nights-Part Four (Ronnie)

His sons did a good fucking job; they found where that faggot lived, but the fucking chicken shits refused to help him. "I'm not killin' him, Dad; Mick's got kids." His eldest son-Jamie-told Ronnie, pissing the man off.

"My brother had kids!" Ronnie exclaimed, punching his son in the jaw without warning.

"Not helpin' you with this, shit. Mickey didn't fuckin' kill Terry, so why kill him?" Jamie asked, spitting blood onto the floor. Ronnie snarled down at his pathetic wimp of a son before grabbing a hunting knife and leaving the house.

 

Ronnie pulled up to the address his youngest son-Tony-got for him, looking at the house for some sign of a security system or something as he smoked a cigarette. "Shit, little faggot got a nice fuckin' place, here." Ronnie whispered to himself as he slowly made his way to the front door. Ronnie heard a dog bark from the other side of the door, but didn't think much of it; probably had a little fucking poodle or some shit like that. "Mickey! Open the fuckin' door, Mickey!"

Ronnie was throwing his body against the door, trying to get it to give way as the dog continued to bark on the other side of the door. "You fuckin' slut! Spreadin' your God damn legs for that AIDs monkey! Terry should've fuckin' killed your faggot ass when he got the chance!" Ronnie roared, jumping back just slightly when a huge fucking German Shepard looked through the window, snarling in his direction. "Too fuckin' scared to face a real man?!"

The door finally gave way, knocking a tall redhead Ronnie vaguely recognized to the ground. "You're the other faggot." Ronnie snarled, looking at the gun on the ground. "You too scared to face a real man without a fuckin' gun?"

"Only here if I really need it." Ian shakily got to his feet, his side bloody and a large piece of wood sticking out. "Don't think I will, though." Ian managed to get the spike of wood out of his side before knocking Ronnie to the ground. Ronnie was actually impressed; the fucking faggot packed some real heat in that punch. Only one he was gonna get, though. Soon enough Ronnie had the lanky motherfucker on the ground, digging his knife into the kid's already open side.

"Gonna use this to cut up that fuckin' queer my brother used to call a son!" Ronnie seethed, feeling accomplished until the damn dog jumped on his back, pulling him off the redheaded fucker. He managed to throw the dog and start towards the stares-assuming Mickey was up there-when a bullet tore into his leg, knocking him back down. "Son of a bitch!"

"Lucky I aimed for your fuckin' leg you piece of shit!" Ian seethed as two fuckin' cops ran in.

"We need backup; two ambulance." The pretty one said into her fucking radio before moving to cuff him.

"I already know my fuckin' rights, no need to repeat 'em." Ronnie said. "And I got a fuckin' bullet in my leg! Why's he so fuckin' worried about that ginger fuck?"

"You broke into his house and assaulted him." The pretty cop reminded him as if he'd forgotten. He was loaded into an ambulance, still cuffed as his fucking disgrace of a nephew ran out to his car with a kid in his arms. That fucker was actually running off to the ginger's side with his mistake. He should've cut the fucker's throat when he had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picture Ronnie thinking a lot like Terry, so I wrote him a lot like Terry. Leave me some comments and let me know if you liked it or not. Much love!


	37. Some Nights-Part Five (Ian)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final prospective of this night, so I hope you guys enjoy it.

Ian had no fucking idea how he slept for five years without Mickey in his arms, because it may just be the best feeling he's ever experienced; no drug or mania could ever relate to having his man pressed close to him, his breath fanning against Ian's skin, and his face pressed into Ian's neck. No dream could ever compare to what-who-he had in the waking world. Ian could feel Mickey tense at his side as Jake started to bark in the living room. Ian jumped up, looking around for anything that could cause a disturbance-though he logically knew it wouldn't be in their bedroom-but saw nothing. "The hell is goin' on?" Ian asked, though he knew Mickey knew about as much as he did.

"Who knows; Maybe jake needs to go outside." Mickey tried to reason as Ian slid on a pair of boxers and retrieved the gun from the top of their closet. "Ian, come on, baby; it's nothin'." Ian knew Mickey was probably right, but no way in hell was he taking that risk when he just got Mickey back.

"We don't know that, Mick; just bein' prepared." Ian could see an internal battle storming behind Mickey's vibrant eyes as he loaded the gun in his hands.

"Mickey! Open the fuckin' door, Mickey!" God damn it; that was Ronnie Milkovich trying to break their front fucking door open. He was sure none of the Milkoviches-excluding Mickey, Mandy, and Iggy-would ever fucking think to look for the last name "Gallagher" to find Mickey. He was broken out of his thoughts by his husband hurriedly getting dressed and moving for the door.

 "The hell are you doin'?" Ian asked, grabbing the brunette man's arm to stop him. No way in hell was he letting anyone hurt Mickey ever again; he had done enough of that on his own.

"I'm goin' out there. Go upstairs with the kids." despite sounding calm, Ian knew Mickey well enough to see fear just below the surface, so he simply tightened his grip on his pale forearm. "Let me go, Ian."

"No! Fuck no, you go upstairs, keep the kids calm, and I'll come get you guys." Ian didn't care if it was fucking pathetic to beg, he was going to keep his family safe, and that included his husband. "I'll call the police and keep him busy until they get here, but you need to be the one with the kids, Mick; they need you." Ian knew Mickey would chose their children over anyone, himself included.

"Call while I can see you and I'll go." Mickey finally agreed as Harlow's soft whimpering could be heard through the baby monitor next to their bed. Ian nodded and grabbed his phone, dialing 911 as Ronnie continued to throw his weight against the door.

"911, what's your emergency?" A dispatcher answered as Ian watched his husband closely.

"There's a man trying to break into my house. I have two kids under ten and he's dangerous." Ian said, seeing hurt in Mickey's eyes as Ronnie yelled that he was a slut; he knows Mickey hates that fucking word.

"Do you know this man, sir?" The dispatcher asked.

"Yes. He's my husband's uncle." Ian said, feeling tears in his eyes. "My name is Ian Gallagher. Please send someone, I don't want him getting to my husband or kids." Ian gave the dispatcher the address and hung up, turning to look at Mickey. "I love you." This was his goodbye if shit went sideways with Ronnie. "I love you, okay? And I'm gonna be fine." That was more than likely a lie, but their children needed Mickey more than he did, right now.

"I love you." Mickey breathed, pulling Ian into the most passionate kiss Ian could remember the two of them ever sharing before disappearing up stairs. Ian walked slowly towards the door, gun in hand as Ronnie continued to try and knock it down. 'This is a bad fuckin' idea.' Ian thought, pressing his back to the door, hoping to muffle some of the noise and keep Max from being too scared.

If Ian was honest, he didn't remember much after the door came down; he remembered Ronnie telling him he was going to kill Mickey, Jake attacking Ronnie to save him, shooting at Ronnie's leg, and telling Carl to go to Mickey, Max, and Harlow, but everything else was an adrenaline fueled blur. He woke up to blindingly bright lights, white walls, and someone squeezing his hand. "Carl's in the waitin' room with the kids." Mickey said from his side. "Why you always gotta get hurt for me, Firecrotch?"

"'Cause I love your pale ass." Ian tried to joke, but whatever fucking drugs they were pumping into him were pretty damn good. "Max okay?"

"He was pretty fuckin' freaked out, but he was better once Carl said you were okay." Mickey replied. "Told me Jake saved your ass."

"He's a good dog. He okay?" Ian loved that fucking dog; he was part of the family the second he started playing with Max and watching over Harlow as soon as they brought him home.

"Had a splinter in his paw, but Carl got it out." Mickey informed him. "Said he went to our room and got your shirt to lay in his bed with." Ian smiled at the thought of their huge dog cuddling his shirt in his bed. "Promise me you're not gonna do stupid shit like this, again; can't lose you, Ian."

"I'm not goin' anywhere, baby; it's you and me until we're grey and old. I won't remember anything, but I'll remember I love you." Ian said, turning to look at Mickey. "We're forever, Mick."

"Sounds good." Mickey wiped his eyes, sniffing to fight back more tears. "You got a broken collar bone and stitches, but other than that the doctor thinks you're gonna be fine."

"Course I am; got you to take care of me, don't I?" Ian asked, smirking at his husband as those beautiful blue eyes met his own green ones. "Glad both of the kids got your eyes."

"Why's that?" Mickey asked, resting his chin on the bed near Ian's face.

"'Cause I fell in love with you the second I looked into those big blue eyes." Ian laughed softly when Mickey slapped his arm. "I'll stop the gay shit. Go get my kids; wanna hold my babies."

"Yeah, okay, tough guy." Mickey stood up and leaned over, giving Ian a soft kiss. "Gonna remember I love you, too." As Mickey left the room, Ian let out a sigh of relief that shit didn't go as wrong as it could have, and that his family was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this section of the story. Leave me some comments and let me know. Much love!


	38. Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be a series of flashbacks to show how Ian felt when he was separated from Mickey.

Six Years Ago

Mickey is gone; those three words kept running through Ian's head as he laid in his bed, tears in his eyes and Mickey's letter clutched in his fist like a lifeline. "Ian?" Debbie whispered, walking slowly into the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Haven't said anything in a few days."

"Mickey left." Ian sobbed, burying his face further into his pillow. He could talk to Debbie about this; Debbie had always liked Mickey. "He's pregnant with my baby."

"I'm so sorry, Ian." Debbie said, rubbing his back as he cried. "Did you try to call him?"

"Turned off his phone. I fucked up so bad, Debs; I lost him." Ian knew he must look like a mess, but he loved Mickey so much, and he'd lost him for good. "I need him back."

"You have to do one thing before you start lookin' for him, Ian." Debbie said in a soft, soothing voice. "You have to get on the meds; prove you're not gonna pull a Monica once you find him and your baby." Ian knew she was right; he may hate the way they made him feel, but if he got on the right cocktail of medications he would feel like his old self, again. He needed to do this; if not for himself, then for Mickey and their child.

"I'll do it." Ian sniffed, reaching up to hold Debbie's hand.

"Can I tell you something?" Debbie asked him after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah." After he'd just unloaded all of his shit on her, he at least owed her that much.

"I'm pregnant... I planned it." Ian was shocked, but he kept his thoughts to himself, simply choosing to hold her hand just a little tighter.

Five Years Ago

The first few months of being medicated had been hard on Ian, but he'd powered through it and had now made it a year with just a handful of episodes of Mania and Depression. He felt like himself, again, and had even gotten a job as an EMT; a job he loved, that actually had decent pay. He'd started saving money from every paycheck with a mission; he was going to find a house that-once he found Mickey and their baby-would become their home. He wasn't happy, but he felt like he could be if half of him wasn't missing. "Hey, you got enough money to cover the Electric bill this month?" Fiona asked as he descended the stairs one morning.

"Yeah, I got it." Ian sighed. This had become a regular thing; Fiona had a steady income, but she spent it all doing stupid shit and couldn't even cover the bills. "Workin' a twenty-four, so I'll see you sometime tomorrow." Ian said, taking out his wallet and setting some cash on the counter.

"Okay, sweetface. Make sure you take your meds." Ian rolled his eyes at this; he hadn't went a day without taking them in a year, so why would today be any different? "Love you."

"Love you, too. Call me if you need anything." He knew no one would, but he still said this, everyday before he left the house.

 

"Wanna go grab some lunch, Gallagher?" His partner-Sue-asked during their break. Right before Ian could answer, though, his phone rang.

"Sure. Just let me take this." Ian said, walking away to answer his phone. "Hello?"

"Ian..." Debbie was clearly crying on the other end. "Ian, m-mom's boyfriend called Fiona... Mom's dead!" Ian felt his stomach sink at those words; he hadn't seen or heard from his mother since two days before he lost Mickey-he kept ignoring her calls, honestly-but he never expected this call.

"What happened?" Ian asked, trying to keep his own emotions at bay.

"S-she k-killed herself." Debbie sobbed. Ian didn't know what to say; how do you comfort someone who just lost their mother when you did, too? "H-how did she even h-have Fiona's number?"

"I gave it to her." Ian admitted. "The last time I saw her, I gave her Fi's number in case there was an emergency." Ian felt... just wrong. This shouldn't be happening; he was supposed to find Mickey and Monica was supposed to meet her grandchildren-including Franny-before she died. Ian mumbled an "I love you" before hanging up his phone and sinking to the floor.

 

The funeral was a fucking pathetic affair, Ian thought, as he watched his Father, sisters, and Lip say something about her; only Frank saying anything remotely kind. Afterwards they all just went home and had dinner like their mother wasn't dead. "You seein' anyone, Ian?" Fiona asked, obviously trying to break the silence.

"No." He answered simply.

"Any leads on Mickey?" Debbie asked, balancing Franny on her lap.

"Nothin' yet, but I'm not givin' up." Ian said, smiling to silently thank Debbie for caring about Mickey.

"You're still lookin' for Mickey?" Fiona asked, actually looking shocked.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I? I love him and he's out there, somewhere, with my kid." Ian replied, staring at Fiona in way of a challenge.

"What about that guy who was flirtin' with you the day I went to pick you up from work? He was cute." Fiona said, making Ian want to fucking gag. It didn't matter how "cute" someone was; there was only one Mickey.

"Not interested." Ian-for the most part-tried to remain civil with his siblings, but Fiona made it hard to do when she made it very obvious she thought he should just forget about the man he loved.

"How's work goin'?" Lip asked, breaking the clear tension.

"Good; nice to find somethin' I'm good at." Ian replied, meeting Carl's eyes across the table. "Puts shit in perspective."

"Fuck yeah." Carl agreed with a smile. He was proud of the kid; he was gonna do great things, someday.

Four Years Ago

He found it; he found the perfect house, and it was in his price range. He loved the little brick English Style house, and could easily see himself building a life here for himself, Mickey, and their child. "What do you think?" Ian asked as he walked his family through the house.

"It's beautiful, Ian." Debbie said with a smile as Franny trotted around the house with a little laugh that broke Ian's heart everytime he heard it; his child would be the same age, and he had never even seen them.

"Thought you were lookin' for an apartment?" Fiona asked, looking around at the spacious living room.

"Just said I was lookin' for my own place." Ian corrected. "Eventually I am gonna find Mickey, and this? This is for us."

"Ian... Are you takin' your meds, man?" Lip asked. "Buyin' a house is... that's big."

"I'm not manic, Lip; this has been the plan for two years." Ian said calmly. "Look, I know you don't wanna hear it, but it's always gonna be Mickey."

"He's been gone for two years." Fiona said, trying to reason with her brother.

"I know that." Ian sighed, running his hand through his hair. "But I'm not givin' up; I fucked up, and this is me payin' for my mistakes."

"You know you don't have to move out; you can stay at home." Fiona just wanted him paying her fucking bills, but Ian needed this; this was the last step to really getting his life together before he found the love of his life and their child.

"I gotta do this, Fi; not because I'm manic, or because I just wanna get away from everyone. I gotta do this, 'cause my plan for the past two years has been to get my shit together." Ian said as gently as he could. "This is a step I gotta take."

"Can I spend the night?" Liam asked, looking up at Ian with wide brown eyes.

"Sure, Monkey Man." Ian laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. He would miss living with his family, but he had to take this step.

Three Years Ago

_"Mickey,_

_I wish I'd found you-found both of you-but it all just hurts too fucking much. I spend all day keeping myself busy at work, then at night I come home, and you're not here. I don't get to tell you about my day, or listen to you tell me about yours. I've never even seen my own child, and it kills me not knowing anything about them; did we have a son or a daughter? Do they look more like you or me? Do they have those beautiful fucking blue eyes I used to get lost in?_

_This isn't you're fault, Mick; this is mine. I just fucked up too bad this time. I just wanted you to know I loved you; and that I still loved you with my last breath. Take care of our baby, and please tell them I loved them, even if I wasn't there._

_Goodbye,_

_Ian."_

As soon as he finished writing the letter he swallowed a whole bottle of pills and sat down on the bathroom floor thinking about his lost love until everything went black.

 

He woke up to a beeping machine and someone gasping at his side. "Ian! Thank God!" Debbie exclaimed hugging him and-thankfully-blocking out the too bright lights.

"Shoulda just let me die, Debs." He croaked, feeling her tears drenching his shoulder. He would feel bad about those words, someday, but for now? He just wanted it all to fucking stop.

Two Years Ago

His new dog was being dropped off today. He thought it was a stupid fucking idea when his therapist suggested it, but he was tired of feeling alone, all the time. Ian jumped off the couch when the doorbell rang, rushing to answer the door. "Ian?" a woman with a small dog carrier asked.

"Yeah, come in." He stepped out of the way and let the woman in.

"He's sorta a handful." She warned, opening the carrier and letting a small, scruffy puppy out. Ian sat in the floor, letting the small dog crawl into his lap and lick his face. "Wow. Usually just bites people."

"I have a way with the mean ones." He thought back to Mickey-when did his thoughts ever leave the man?-and smiled down at the the puppy; Mickey liked dogs, though he'd never admit it. "We're gonna get along just fine, aren't we?"

"My daughter's about your age; she named him and his brother Jeckyll and Hyde, but you can change it." The woman said, smiling down at Ian and the puppy.

"Is he Jeckyll or Hyde?" He asked, laughing when the puppy rolled over onto it's back in his lap.

"Hyde." She said, still watching Ian with the small animal in his lap.

"Nah, I think it fits." He said, scratching the dog's stomach with one hand and fishing his wallet from his pocket with the other, handing the woman the money for the dog. "Thanks for bringin' him."

"No problem; I think he's with the right person." She said with a parting smile before walking out of the house. Ian continued to play with Hyde, feeling just a little happier than he had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted a little glimpse into just how badly Ian wanted Mickey back. Leave me some comments and let me know if you liked it. Much love!


	39. When We Were Young

Present Day

"Sure you're gonna be okay takin' care of her, today?" Mickey asked for the tenth time as he wrestled Max's shoes onto his feet. Ian's last x-ray on his collarbone-that had been done the day before-showed that he was completely healed and the stitches had been removed a week ago, so he had insisted on keeping Harlow on his day off; he missed holding his baby girl.

"I'm fine now, baby; you heard the doctor say it, yourself." Ian reminded Mickey, scooping Harlow up to prove his point. "Hey there, Ladybug!"

"Okay, okay! I'll drop it." Mickey conceded. "Call me if you need me?" Mickey begged, moving closer to Ian, running his hand over the man's arm.

"I will. I love you." Ian leaned forward just enough to connect their lips.

"Love you, too." Mickey replied, patting Ian's cheek as he turned to the couch. "Tell Papa bye, Chipmunk; we gotta go."

"Bye, Papa! Love you!" Max said, hugging Ian's leg before running to the door.

"Love you, too, bud." Ian laughed as his husband and son left. "Guess it's just us, today, Ladybug." He said with a smile, looking into his daughter's bright blue eyes. "I love you so much, pretty girl." He whispered, kissing her little nose.

 

"How's Ian doin'?" Fiona asked as she and Mickey sat in his office during their lunch break.

"Good; stitches are out and he was cleared for heavy liftin' yesterday." Mickey replied, looking down at his phone when a picture of Harlow sitting on the floor with her ladybug rattle in one hand and the other on Jake's head as the German Shepherd laid their calmly came through.

_Mick <3: She replacin her daddy as her favorite?_

_Ian: Guess so. Don't worry; you're still my favorite ;-)_

_Mick <3: Better be._

_Ian: Always gonna be my favorite, beautiful._

_Mick <3: Lol, go take care of our kid._

_Ian: Okay. Love you, baby._

_Mick <3: Love you, too._

"She looks so much like Ian, some days." Fiona said with a smile when Mickey showed her the picture of Harlow and Jake. "How's he been doin'... as far as his bipolar?"

"Good; he's been doin' really good." Mickey replied, though he suddenly remembered something that had been eating away at him for a long time, now. "Hey, Fiona?" Fiona hummed as she took a bite of her lunch to let the man know she was listening. "When... when Ian tried to kill himself... did he tell anyone why?"

"He wrote a note." Fiona admitted. "He was... lost I guess? He thought he'd never see you again." Fiona noticed the guilty look on Mickey's face, so she reached over and grabbed his hand. "You were right to do what you did, Mick; he wasn't stable."

"Feels wrong, though." Mickey sighed, pressing the heel of the palm on his free hand into his eye. "Fuck. I took Max away from him for fuckin' years."

"Does he hold that against you?" Mickey shook his head; Ian just seemed happy that he had Mickey and their children in his life, now. "Then don't hold it against yourself, sweetie. Trust me when I tell you that if somethin' was really wrong, you'd know."

"How'd you realize that, oh wise one?" Mickey asked, trying to ignoring depression creeping up on him.

"I was wrong about you, wasn't I?" Fiona asked, squeezing Mickey's hand just a little tighter. "You did what you had to at that time, and now? Now you two got a good thing goin'." Mickey let out a weak laugh, wondering how he ended up here.

"Can you do me a favor?" Mickey asked, remembering there was something he wanted to do for his husband.

 

The house was far too quiet without Max and Mickey home, Ian realized. Unless she was hungry or needed changed, the only sound Harlow made were those tiny laughs she'd let out, and since she was asleep, he didn't even have that. He was half tempted to turn on the TV and risk waking Harlow up until his phone went off.

_Mick <3: Fiona's gonna watch the kids for a few hours, tonight._

_Ian: You plannin on dumpin my body in the river?_

_Mick <3: If I was I wouldn't fuckin tell you._

_Ian: I feel so safe, babe._

_Mick <3: Never went on that date; now's our chance._

_Ian: Since when are you the romantic one?_

_Mick <3: You wanna fuckin do this or what, Gallagher?_

_Ian: Did you forget you're a Gallagher, now?_

_Mick <3: Fuck you!_

_Ian: Please do ;-)_

_Mick <3: About to divorce your ass._

_Ian: YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME, BABY! YOU LOVE ME TOO MUCH!_

_Mick <3: Sure about that?_

_Ian: You fuckin better!_

_Mick <3: I'm two seconds from telling Fiona never mind._

_Ian: I wanna go, though!_

_Mick <3: Then answer the fuckin question next time, Ian._

_Ian: Fine. Love you._

_Mick <3: Love you._

"Looks like Papa's got a date, tonight, Ladybug!" Ian cooed to Harlow as she started to laugh in her bassinet. "You promise you're not gonna spit up on Papa, again?" Harlow just laughed harder as he picked her up, her dimpled, gummy smile on full display. "Of course not." Ian laughed, himself, blowing raspberries on her stomach as she kicked her feet.

 

"Is it weird that I completely forgot we were gonna do this?" Ian asked as he and Mickey sat down at dinner.

"Had some hard times this year, man." Mickey replied, looking up at Ian, who was smiling at him. "What?"

"Just hard to believe how fuckin' amazing you are." Ian replied, lacing their fingers together on the table top. "You actually took me on a fuckin' date."

"Also married your ass." Mickey shot back.

"Feel different than the last time?" Ian asked, looking away from Mickey.

"It is different; actually love you... not sure why." Mickey said, squeezing Ian's fingers.

"What if that changes, someday?" Ian asked, still looking away from Mickey.

"Hey, look at me," Mickey demanded, forcing Ian's wonderful green eyes to meet his own. "hasn't changed yet, and it's not goin' to. Got me?" Ian nodded. "Good. Now stop worryin', okay? You got me; that's never gonna change."

"Think we did shit a little backwards." Ian joked as they started to eat.

"Workin' out so far so good, ain't it?" Mickey asked with a smirk. "Eight years ago I wouldn't have done this gay shit."

"I still liked you." Ian said, staring at Mickey like he held all of the answers in the universe. "Like you a little more now, though."

"That hurts, Gallagher; I've always been fuckin' awesome." Mickey joked.

"Yeah." Ian agreed. "But we both grew up; we're better, now."

"We done with the feelings bullshit?" Mickey asked, not breaking eye contact.

"Yeah, fine, I'll stop waxing poetic about you." Ian joked, earning a soft laugh from Mickey. "Thanks; for just... bein' you."

"Am I gonna sound fuckin' gay if I say I wouldn't be without you?" Mickey asked, a blush tinting his cheeks.

"You are gay, baby." Ian deadpanned.

"Asshole." Mickey laughed and went back to his food, just happy being in Ian's presence.

 

"I think I drank too much." Ian slurred as Mickey helped him into the house.

"Warned your ass." Mickey reminded him, allowing Ian to fall onto the bed.

"Come lay down with me?" Ian begged, holding his hand out to Mickey.

"Needy asshole. Let me tell go tell Fiona she can leave and I'll be right back." Mickey promised.

"Hurry up! I don't like sleepin' alone, baby." Ian slurred, again, as he rolled onto his stomach.

"Trust me, I know." Mickey chuckled as he walked out of their bedroom. Life was fucking crazy, but he'd rather have a crazy life with Ian than a normal one without him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got their date! Leave me some comments and let me know what you think. Much love!


	40. You Couldn't Have Loved Me Better

Until Mickey was positive Ian was asleep he pretended he was fine; pretended he hadn't had the conversation he had with Fiona earlier in the day. Once he was asleep, though, Mickey ended up going through boxes in the basement until he found it; found the fucking note that had him sitting on their basement floor feeling completely fucking useless. He continued to sift through the boxes for something-anything that would make him feel like he was something other than a piece of shit-when he came across Ian's old phone. He plugged it into his extra charger he kept downstairs and looked through some of the pictures, and a file of videos with his name on it.

_Ian was sitting in the bathroom floor of the Gallagher house with tears in his usually lively green eyes. "Hey, Mick." Ian said, trying-and failing-to smile. "Svetlana dropped off your letter, earlier... I'm tryin' to understand why I kept pushin' you away, but I'm comin' up with nothing." Ian took a deep breath and looked down at something in his hand. "Can't believe we're havin' a baby. I used to dream of us havin' a family with Yevgeny, but... God, Mick, this baby? It's us._

_"It's not a kid we'll both always associate with Terry catching us, together; we were in love when they were conceived. You may not be in love with me, anymore, but I want you to know I still love you. And that I always will."_

Mickey started the next video, hoping he wouldn't be looking at Ian's tearful eyes, again.

_Ian was out in that old fucking Van with a broad smile on his face. "I did it, Mick; I made it a year on the meds. I actually feel like me, again. I know that-when you left-I was actin' like a complete asshole, but I'm tryin' to be better. I've been lookin' for you since I managed to get my head straight, and I'm really hopin' I'll make you proud when I find you. I love you, baby._

_"I'll see you soon, okay?"_

Ian looked so fucking happy-so much like the real Ian-in the second video that Mickey couldn't help but smile in response as he started the third video.

_Ian was leaning against the wall in the master bedroom of old house, a much softer smile on his face than the last video. "Really need to start doin' these more than once a year; I feel better when I talk to you, even when it's just makin' a fuckin' video I'll probably never even let you see. Anyway, I bought a house! Really hopin' you won't think I'm manic like Fiona and Lip did, but I didn't care; I was plannin' it for two years by the time I bought it._

_"I wanna have my shit together when I finally find you, again... prove we can actually have a life together with our baby. Keep thinkin' about what they'd look like, but all I can ever really stick on is that they should have your eyes. I love you; both of you. See you soon."_

Mickey took a deep breath to prepare for the next video, knowing it was from the year Ian almost killed himself; possibly even the same night. He finally hit play before he could stop himself.

_Ian was in the bathroom of the old house with tear stains on his cheeks. "Happy birthday, Mickey... fuck I miss you. I can't even remember exactly what your eyes look like; you never let me get a good enough picture." Ian let out a pitiful laugh, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "I can remember what your voice sounds like, and most of your features but everything else... startin' to feel like you were a figment of my imagination, you know?_

_"This is me sayin' goodbye. You're the only person I wanted to say it to. If-by some miracle-someone finds you, my phone's with my note, so I hope my fuckin' family gets the message. You're the only one who knows my password, so they'd never see this. Can you... can you tell our kid that-even though I was never there-I never stopped thinkin' about them? Tell 'em I loved both of you._

_"I want you to know that this isn't your fault. I let go of the best thing in my life, and now my memories of you are all startin' to blur. If you get the chance to love someone else, I want you to do it, because I never knew anyone who loved the way you do, Mickey; and no one could've loved me better than you did. Bye, Mick. I love you."_

Mickey was fiercely wiping tears from his eyes by the time the video ended. "The last two years I couldn't do it." Ian said, alerting Mickey to his presence. "What're you doin' down here?" Ian asked, sitting down beside Mickey.

"I asked Fiona about... about that night. Think I was doin' it to punish myself after that shit with Ronnie, and..." Mickey's voice started to break. "It was my fault."

"No it wasn't; I was depressed and started to think I'd never see you, again. It just got to my head. I missed the fuck outta you, but you were right; I wouldn't have cared when I wasn't medicated. I would've been manic, again, and been out doin' a bunch of stupid shit. I made some stupid fuckin' choices in my life, and tryin' to kill myself was one of them." Ian was quiet for a second, tracing Mickey's tattooed knuckles with his fingertips. "I knew the second Ronnie said it how bad you'd feel."

"It doesn't happen a lot." Mickey tried to argue, but he was still shaking.

"I know. I still think you should talk to someone; hate seein' you cry, baby." Mickey laid his head on Ian's shoulder, watching his fingers dance across his knuckles.

"How's your head feelin'?" Mickey asked quietly.

"Hurts, but I woke up alone, Harlow wasn't cryin'-not that I woulda known 'cause you took the baby monitor-and you weren't in the livin' room or upstairs, so I figured you might be down here for some reason." Mickey honestly thought Ian would be passed out the rest of the night, but now he felt bad that he'd woken up alone. "You did good, Mick; Max is an awesome fuckin' kid and I can't take any credit for that."

"Is it hard? Talkin' to some fuckin' stranger about how you feel and shit?" Mickey asked quietly.

"It's a little exhausting, but it helps after awhile." Ian admitted. "Did you ever think about callin' me?"

"Everyday." Mickey said. "Picked up the phone to do it more times than I can count." Mickey took a shaky breath, not moving to look at Ian. "Ever think we just fucked up too bad for this to work?"

"Do you love me?" Ian asked, turning Mickey's hand over to trace the lines on his palm.

"You know I do." Mickey said, not seeing what the question had to do with what he'd asked.

"And you know I love you; it might get tough, sometimes, but we'll make it work." Ian whispered. "Come on; let's go to bed." Ian said, standing up and helping Mickey to his feet. They would-without a doubt-hit a few speed bumps, but he knew they would always have each other's back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've hit the last chapter on the first part of this series. Thank you guys so much for reading, subscribing, leaving kudos, and commenting. Much love!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments to let me know what you think! Much love!


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